Ghostbird Series: Sang's Lyric (The story of Sang's mother)
by Ripley10
Summary: Lyric Sorenson likes to stay invisible: to her alcoholic mother and her leering boyfriends, to the much older cousin who tries to catch her alone. Academy boys, Taylor, Kell, and James see Lyric; they see her beauty, wisdom, and quiet bravery. When they realize she needs protection, they decide to adopt her into their family. They just never expected they'd fall in love with her.
1. Chapter 1

**Please let me know if you would like me to continue with this story. Reviews and critiques are much appreciated!**

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I could hear my mother in the bedroom, giggling and moaning. It wasn't anything new, but that didn't mean that I could get used to it.

I went to the refrigerator and put away the meager groceries I could afford from my afterschool job babysitting. At fifteen, I was still too young to do anything else, and in this small Maine town, where everybody knew everybody, jobs went to family and friends, and I had neither.

I grabbed an apple from the bag of Macintoshes I'd just bought. In the fall, they were plentiful and cheap, otherwise, fresh fruit and vegetables weren't something I could afford; canned veggies and ramen, sure.

The moaning was getting louder, so I grabbed my apple and went outside to sit on the steps of the trailer. The wind was chilly, so I lifted my shoulders up to my ears, trying to block the cold. Indian summer had come and gone, and now, on the cusp of November, everything was grey and dreary.

I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them, leaning my head down. With the holes in my jeans, I could feel my skin against my cheek, and rubbed it back and forth before picking up my apple and biting in. This would be dinner, so I chewed slowly.

I heard movement behind me and the door to the trailer opened, "Lyric," my mother said, "I thought I told you to pick up a six pack."

"I'm fifteen," I answered quietly, looking back over my shoulder at her, "who's going to sell me beer?"

"You get someone to buy it for you, dummy," a voice boomed behind my mother. I saw my mother's boyfriend, Tim, standing behind her. He leered down at me, his face sweaty as he stood in jeans and no shirt.

I looked away quickly and stood up, moving down the stairs under the pretense of making better eye contact with mom.

I didn't say anything but looked at her, "Jesus, Tim," my mother chided, "She's a fucking virgin, she doesn't know how to give head for beer."

"She's not fucking if she's a virgin," Tim answered, laughing at himself and I saw my mother wince.

My cheeks flamed and a pit formed in my stomach as I processed what Mom had said.

"I'd buy beer for a go with her," Tim said thoughtfully, and then laughed, as if it was a joke.

Mom turned around and swatted him playfully, "Shut up," she joked.

Tim laughed as well, but he eyed me with an intention that I'd seen in my mom's boyfriend's eyes before and which meant that I needed to pick up more babysitting hours and spend some extra time at the library.

Mom pulled her blonde hair back from her face, and wrapped it in an elastic, "Come on baby," she said to Tim, standing on tip toes and kissing his chin, "Let me make you something to eat." She took his hand and led him back into the kitchen.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and walked toward the shed that was in my driveway. Mom had rented this trailer way out of town. I biked in to school almost everyday, except in the winter, when I had to take the bus, and the parents of the kids I babysat would bring me home. It was nice not to be in a loud apartment building or in a trailer park, but with some of Mom's boyfriends it was scary to be so far away from other houses.

I opened the rusty shed door as quietly as I could and moved to the back, where I'd hidden my backpack. I used to keep my things in my room in the trailer, but then my mother started taking money for cigarettes and booze, and I had to hide it. I moved it every few days, under the trailer, behind a tree, wrapped in a garbage bag. If I wanted to eat, I had to be smart. I kept a few dollars in my drawer to put Mom off the scent, and those dollars were inevitably gone if I was away for any amount of time. I grabbed my backpack and my bike, and started down the driveway.

"Hey!" I heard Tim's voice as I peddled away, "HEY!"

I pretended I couldn't hear and peddled faster. Soon I was on the main road into town, and I could slow down, but I pumped my legs harder, as anxiety raced through my body, making it hard for me to breathe. Sometimes, if I exercised enough, I would start to pant, making it feel like I could breathe. Ever since I was a little girl, that was how I dealt with my fears. Run until I collapsed, bike as fast as I could. If my heart was pounding and my body was sucking in oxygen, I was alive, and my fear wouldn't suffocate me.

I didn't like Tim, and the older I got, the more I understood the looks he was giving me. He gave the same looks to my mom, who looked like me, except fifteen years older. Given the life Mom lived, the gap between us was getting to be more than just chronological. My mom lived a hard life, drinking constantly and chain smoking. She rarely worked, and when she did it was usually a menial labor job, cleaning hotel rooms or packing boxes at a factory.

I allowed myself to slow my pace as I came into town. I biked past a cafe and a church until I got to the small white public library. I locked my to the bike rack and went inside.

The librarian, a young woman named Ruby, lifted her hand and waved at me. I waved back and went into the reading room. I pulled out my English book and started reading. My humanities class was reading _Doctor Zhivago_ and my teacher had just passed out the books today. Soon I was caught up in pre-revolutionary Russia and trying to pronounce the Russian names in my head, _Yuri Zhivago, Nikolai Nikolaevich._

"Pasternak is a good fit for this grey afternoon," a voice said near me.

I looked up quickly, and saw a tall thin man in his early thirties smiling down at me.

I cleared my throat nervously, "It's a school assignment," I replied, and looked back down at my book, hoping it would be a sign for the man to go away.

I heard a chair scrape against the wood floor and then the heat of a body neared me. I tilted my entire body to the side and brought the book up closer to my face.

"Are you a freshman? Do you go to U Maine?" the man said.

I looked over and away quickly, "No," I answered.

"No?" he replied, "this is kind of far away, but Bowdoin? Bates?"

I shook her head, still starting down, "I'm in high school."

"No way!" the man said in such a way that I looked at him, "You look like a college girl. Must be a senior then."

Each statement he uttered made me more and more nervous. I knew he was lying. I looked nothing like a college girl. I was short and thin, and because I hadn't had food a lot growing up, I wasn't as curvy or developed as most girls my age. Biking everywhere made my body strong, but it was hard to tell from looking at me. With my blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin, it was easy for me to look sickly. I wasn't sleeping much when Tim was in our house, and now that it was deeper into fall, I wasn't getting much sun. This man's motives were suspicious to me and I didn't like him.

"Daddy!" a little girl called.

I looked up to see a girl, about three years old, run up to the man and show him a book, "Can I get this one?" she asked, holding it up and showing him the cover.

"Sure," he answered off-handedly and picked it up.

"Good luck," he said, standing while the little girl pulled him toward Ruby's desk.

I nodded and looked back down at my book, breathing a sigh of relief. He was a dad. If he was a dad then I don't have to worry, dads were usually safe. I glanced hesitantly over at them every once in a while. I saw him talking to Ruby and then looking back at me, so I quickly lowered my head.

"See you, Lyric," the man said as he walked out, making me swallow hard as my anxiety made a reappearance and look at Ruby confused.

"He's looking for a babysitter," Ruby called over, "thought you'd like the reference."

I nodded, but my stomach clenched. I wanted nothing to do with that man.


	2. Bikes and Boys

I waited until it was nearly dark before I left the library. I turned on the blinking light on the front and back of my bike before hopping on and starting to peddle. Darkness fell quickly and I cursed myself for not leaving earlier. It's not like I had a lot of choices: go home early and deal with Tim and my mom, or wait to bike home in the dark and hope they'd left for the bars by the time I got there. I chose the lesser of the two evils, taking my chance with traffic.

I biked along easily enough, it wasn't completely dark yet and I knew the road well. I was rounding a corner when I heard a loud beep next to me. It surprised me and made me jerk my handle bars. I heard laughing and someone calling out, before I went over the handle bars and into the culvert.

The breath was knocked out of my body when I landed on my back, hard. I stared up at the sky, the black branches framed against the lighter sky. I tried to suck in air, but I couldn't and my hands moved panicked to my throat.

"It's okay," I heard a voice say near me, "Just relax. You're okay. You'll be able to breathe in a moment."

I looked toward the voice and into the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen. A boy kneeled next to me; his face close to mine. I stared at his eyes, they were brown I'd never seen before, almost golden, and they hypnotized me.

A weight seemed to leave my chest and I felt my ribs expand. I sucked in a grateful breath and then another one. I put my hands on the ground and tried to sit up.

"Just wait a minute," the boy said, "just breathe."

I wanted to obey him. _Had I ever heard a voice so kind before?_ And nodded. He breathed with me, showing me what to do and I copied him. I heard the squeal of tires and then another voice, "James!"

"Down here!" the boy called out, looking over his shoulder.

I heard rustling in the leaves as feet came down the side of the road. I wanted to sit up now, feeling a return of nervousness at the thought of another new person near me, so I pushed my body up. I jerked when my wrist protested at the move, but I bit down on my lip until I could sit on my knees.

Headlights from another car illuminated the ditch so I could see the boy who had helped me, and the person who had just arrived.

"It's a little late for going off-road," I heard the other boy say.

"I wasn't…" I started hesitantly.

"Some idiots in a jeep startled her and she went over the handlebars of her bike," the boy, James, said.

"Thank you for stopping," I replied quietly, moving away from them both and attempting to stand.

It was getting harder and harder to see in the dark, but I could make out the bent wheel on my bike. My finger came up to my lip, pushing it toward my teeth. I tried not to cry when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to bike home.

The new boy picked up the bike, and looked at the tire, "It's not meant for off-roading anyway. This is a road bike, Crash," he said.

I stared at him, "Um," I answered softly, "I don't know what kind of bike it is."

He stared at me for a minute before shaking his head. He had long dark blonde hair and dark green eyes. His hair fell around his jaw in a shaggy cut and the ends were sweaty, like he'd just come from working out. I noticed he was wearing athletic shorts and a letterman's jacket, and realized he must have come from practice at my high school.

"Taylor," the other boy said warningly.

"Just kidding, Crash," he joked, "Looks like you're going to need a ride home." He lifted up the bike and held a hand out to me as he climbed out of the culvert.

I flinched when his hand came too near my face and stepped back. My back coming up against the other boy's chest. His arms reached out to steady me, but then he quickly stepped away. My body relaxed slightly.

"Are you coming?" the boy asked, flicking his hair out of his face as he waited for me to take his hand.

I took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand. His was warm and dry. I could feel the callouses on his palm before he quickly hefted me up and then let me go.

The other boy climbed gracefully out of the ditch.

Two cars were parked where I had gone off the road; one was a dark sedan of some kind, and the other was a huge black truck, with tires as tall as I was.

"Thanks again," I whispered, and reached toward my bike to take it from the long-haired boy.

The first boy cleared his throat and I turned toward him, "I realize you may not want to accept a ride home from us, so if you want, we'll call you a cab or…"

"My name is Taylor Curtis," the long haired boy interrupted, "and my well-mannered friend here is James McInnish," he continued, "we go to your high school. You're Lyric Sorenson. We're in humanities class together."

I peered at him through the darkness. Now I recognized him. He sat in the back of class quietly, not volunteering information. He was about as talkative as I was, but I had noticed him before.

I looked closer now at the other boy, "You're in my calculus class," I stated.

He smiled at me, and I was struck, suddenly, by how handsome they both were, but how entirely different. Taylor had a bad-boy vibe around him. He was tall and muscular, and with that hair and smile, he was gorgeous. The other boy, James, was slightly shorter and less muscular than his friend, though I still had to tilt my neck back to make out his face. He had dark hair, brushed back from his face, and skin nearly as pale as mine. I could make out dark eyebrows that slashed above his eyes and dark eyes, but it was hard to make out more of his features in the darkness. I hadn't been able to pay attention to more than his eyes when he had found me. Both of them had kind smiles, and though Taylor's statements had been blunt, they hadn't been rude.

"Lyric," James said, watching me carefully, "if it's all right with you, we could drive you home. I imagine it's not too far away, is it?"

My put my finger up to my lip as I thought about accepting the ride. My heart pounded in my chest, and finally I nodded, bringing my hand down and clasping it tightly with the other, "About two miles this way," I answered pointing, "you could bring me to my driveway."

I noticed James' eyes narrow, "Where are you coming from?" he asked seriously.

I cleared my throat, "The library," I answered.

"That's three miles back!" Taylor exclaimed, "You training for an Iron Man, Crash?"

I shook my head, and a giggle escaped me before I could clasp my hand over my mouth.

Taylor smiled at me, dimples appearing in both cheeks, "I'm going to get your bike," he said reaching for it from me, "James will bring you home."

I nodded, "Thank you," I replied.

James held out a hand, directing my attention to his car. He opened the passenger side door for me and waited for me to get in. Just before he closed the door, I looked down and saw my mud splattered jeans and hands as the dome light illuminated the interior.

 _Oh no!_ I thought, _I am going to ruin his car._ I put my sleeve over my hand, and grasping the handle, got out of the car just as he was about to get into the driver's seat.

"What's the problem?" he asked me, stopping.

I wiped my nervous hands on my jeans and stepped away from his car, "I'm all muddy," I replied, "I don't want to ruin your car."

"That's okay," he said, coming over to me and opening the door again, "Don't worry about it."

I smashed my lips together, chewing on them, "I can walk," I said, "It's not that far. Just," I went on, "would you mind terribly much dropping my bike at the driveway. It's 152- there's a mailbox."

He stepped a little closer and I sucked in a surprised breath, taking a step back until my back touched the car. His eyes widened and he stepped away from me, giving me space, "I'm not worried about my car," he said, "but…" he seemed to realize something and went to the driver's side, popping the trunk and getting out a duffle bag. He got a towel out of it and handed it to me, "How about you put that on the seat?" he asked.

I nodded gratefully, and taking it, spread it on the seat. He held the door for me, and nodded at me to get in. I slid into the seat and smiled up at him. His grin faltered for a minute, but appeared again, brighter and wider than before. I sucked in a breath at the beauty of his face and felt my cheeks flame as he, thankfully, closed the door.

He pulled carefully back onto the road and I was glad he didn't try to fill the silence, because I was likely to respond in a tongue tied, inarticulate way.

"Is this it?" he asked, as his headlights shown on our rusted mailbox, duct-taped onto a two by four.

"Yes," I replied.

He pulled into the driveway, "Just stop here," I told him.

"I can bring you to the door," he answered.

I shook my head quickly, and then, realizing he couldn't see that, "No, please."

I thought I heard him sigh, but he stopped the car. I got out of the car, just as James as walking around to my side.

"Can you see your way to the door?" he asked me, handing me my backpack. I didn't realize he'd even grabbed it.

"Thank you," I sighed, "I forgot about my bag."

"LYRIC!" I heard my mother screech, "Get in here! Are you still in the shed?! What the hell's wrong with you?!"

I flinched at the tone in her voice and the way her words were slightly slurred. I could hear a deeper rumble through the night; Tim was still here.

"Are you going to be okay?" James asked me seriously, "Do you have another place to stay?"

I shook my head, "I'll be fine," I answered, desperate for him to leave now before he heard something worse than what they'd already said.

"LYRIC!" Tim this time, "Get that perky ass in this house. Your mother is calling you!"

 _Oh no._ I closed my eyes as shame washed over me. I turned quickly to James, "Thanks again for your help," I said quietly and took off into the night.

"Wait!" I heard him whisper shout, "Lyric!"

"I'm okay," I called back, just loud enough for him to hear, "I'm okay."

I ran toward the house without looking back, wishing what I'd told him was true.


	3. Fresh Air

I knew better than to go into the house. They were just drunk enough, I was sure, that they would give up finding me easily, but I didn't want to risk it. I crept through the darkness, bypassing the shed entirely, and went to the back of the trailer.

Hay bales surrounded the base of the trailer, our landlord had placed them there to keep out drafts from sweeping through the thin walls and floor. I moved one, and pulled out a garbage bag I had stored under there.

"LYRIC!" Tim called, making me jump and my heart start pounding, "Goddamnit it girl! Fuckin' bitch never listens," he complained to my mom.

"It's fine, Tim," my mom said, "she keeps her babysitting money in her drawer. I'll grab it and we can leave."

I let out a shakey breath; they wanted money for the bar, that was all. I had stuffed five dollars in my sock drawer, and while it wasn't much, it was enough for a pitcher of beer to get them started.

I pulled the garbage bag out from under the trailer and put the hay bale back carefully, before standing up and making my way into the forest.

As soon as I was in the trees, I opened up the bag. I had stored a small penlight and sleeping bag from the Salvation Army in there. I took out the light and made my way deeper into the forest, being sure to keep the light trained on the ground.

I would stay out here, wrapped in the sleeping bag tonight. It wasn't safe in the trailer, and if no one bought my mom and Tim beer after they emptied their pitcher, they'd return mean drunk and not pass out drunk. I knew which one I preferred.

My entire body shook with the force of my shivering, and I realized my body was damp from the culvert. I needed to get warmed up, so I couldn't go as deep into the woods as I wanted. I took out the sleeping bag and a plastic tarp that would protect me from the ground, and crawled inside. I snuggled down as deep as I could, dipping my head under the bag to conserve body heat.

It was getting too cold to do this much longer and I'd have to figure out something new, a new safe place to sleep when Tim was over. I was too big to sleep on shelves or in cupboards if I needed to hide, the way I used to when I was younger. I had started using the sleeping bag at the beginning of the summer, when Mom first brought Tim home, but winters in Maine were brutal, and a dinky sleeping bag wasn't going to protect me from the elements.

Unbidden, the faces of the boys I had met tonight appeared in my mind. James' kind brown eyes, and Taylor's mischievous green ones. I had felt safe with them: something that never ever happened. I lifted my hand up to my face and held it there; I could still feel the imprint of Taylor's hand when he helped me out of the culvert.

I fell asleep, with my hand on my cheek, pretending it was someone else's.


	4. Ride

I woke up when it was still dark, my eyes popping open in panic when I heard the snap of a branch nearby. I sat up and came face to face with a doe. She stopped, one hoof lifted, as surprised as I was. Her tail flicked back and forth, while we regarded each other. Her liquid brown eyes watched me and her ears twitched back and forth. She lowered her face slightly, like she was going to go back to rooting in the ground, but a sound, something I couldn't hear, caught her attention and she lifted her head. Her tail went straight up into the air, and with a graceful leap, she disappeared.

I stared after her, grateful that it had been an animal, and not a person, when I heard the crack of a rifle shot. I jumped in my bag and put my hands up over my ears.

Hunting season.

Another reason why I wasn't safe in the woods.

I crawled out of the bag and rolled it up. I wrapped it in the tarp and then stuffed it in the garbage bag. In the light, I could see how dirty I was. My jeans were stiff with mud and muck, and my nails and hands were so dirty it looked dirt had been ground into my skin.

I could ride my bike to school and use the locker room to shower, but I'd need to leave early.

I made my way through the forest, toward my trailer, when I suddenly stopped, remembering the tire on my bike. I almost cried out in frustration. _Why did everything have to be so hard? Okay,_ I thought, taking a deep breath and pushing away my panic, _I'll take the bus. No morning shower. That's okay. I can still wash up when I get to school._

My mother's car was in the driveway, parked precariously close to the front steps, showing, yet again, she had driven home drunk. I crouched next to the car, near the side mirrors, and examined my face. It was splattered with mud, and my hair had leaves and twigs stuck in it. I started picking out the pieces I could see and feeling in the back for anything I couldn't.

I had extra clothes in the shed, so I went in there. It was so cold this morning, I could see my breath in the air. I stripped off my jeans and underpants quickly, hiding behind a stack of tires in case Tim woke up early and came out looking for me. I took out the only other pair of jeans I had and pulled them on. I would have to stop at the laundromat in town today and wash my clothes.

These jeans were older and more faded, if that was possible. The waist was higher and they were tighter. All of my clothes were getting tighter, despite the fact that I hadn't gained weight.

I shivered and put on a hooded sweatshirt. My jacket would need to be washed, and my shirt. I only had one bra, and I sniffed it. It didn't smell, but I'd have to wash it later too. I quickly pulled on the sweatshirt, lifting the hood over my head.

I held onto my t-shirt and went back outside to my mom's car, kneeling next to the mirror again. I rubbed at the dirt on my face, trying to get it as clean as possible. My hands would have to wait until we got to school. I had a study hall later in the afternoon; I may be able to sneak out to take a shower.

I sighed as I looked at my reflection. The dark circles under my eyes were even more noticeable than they were yesterday, but I looked about as good as I could.

I debated creeping inside to see what time it was. The bus came at quarter to seven. I didn't think it was that late, but I didn't want to miss it so I started to walk to the end of the drive.

While I waited, I shifted my weight from foot to foot, to keep warm. I pulled my hands into the sleeves of my sweatshirt and wrapped them across my body. I stared down at the ground, keeping my ears open for any noise from the trailer, and tried to figure out my next steps. School felt like a vacation compared to my life. I didn't have to worry about food, because I could get breakfast and lunch there. I qualified for free lunch, so I didn't have to spend money. It was warm and dry. Boys ignored me, and girls didn't see me as a threat, so I was invisible. I could go to the library and do my homework, read, and then take a bus to babysit. It engaged my brain, not my survival skills.

Cars whizzed by me, speeding on the main road. I pulled the ties that would tighten the hood, and stepped back from the road, trying to make myself less noticeable to commuters. I heard a car coming down the road, but didn't look up until I heard it slow and stop.

"Lyric?" a boy said.

I looked up quickly and saw James, the boy from last night.

"Hi," I said, confused.

He opened his car door and walked over toward me, "Tay called me last night, he didn't drop off your bike, and he was worried you wouldn't be able to get to school. Can I give you a ride?"

My body almost sagged in relief. If he gave me a ride to school I could take a shower this morning, it was just the little spot of brightness that I needed to get through this day.

"Yes, please," I answered, looking at him quickly and then back down at the ground.

James led the way to his car, opening the door for me and waiting until I'd sat and placed my bookbag at my feet before closing the door. I wasn't used to anyone being polite to me, and after I belted myself in, and he sat in the driver's seat, I said quietly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Lyric," he answered, his deep voice making my body flush with embarrassment, and something else, something I wasn't used to that made me feel warm all over.

James reached over, and I shrank back toward the door without thinking. His hands touched the knobs on the dashboard, and I felt warm air flowing over my face. I bit my lip, ashamed I'd flinched from him when he was doing nothing more than trying to make me comfortable.

I put my hands up to the vents, feeling the tips start to dethaw. I watched my hands and happened to catch James staring at them. I followed his gaze and realized how filthy my hands were, and how clean his car was. I curled my fingers into fists and pulled them back into my body, "Sorry," I said.

"No," James answered quickly, "I just didn't realize how cold it is outside."

"Maine coast in November," I said, "it's brisk."

James laughed, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I had made him laugh. The bubble that had built in my chest when I sat in the warm clean car threatened to burst.

"Do you ride your bike in November?" he asked me.

I shook my head, "I just got it," I answered, "usually I take the bus. But I…"  
I stopped, realizing how much I had been speaking, and worried that I was taking advantage of his politeness.

"You what?" he prompted.

"I was hoping if I could get myself from place to place, I may be able to find a job other than babysitting," I answered.

"Do you enjoy babysitting?" he asked.

I nodded, "I really do," I answered, "but it doesn't pay very much."

"No?" James asked, "My sister babysits and she makes eight dollars an hour."

I can't even fathom that much, "Really?" I said, "Is she in college? Does she drive from place to place."  
James shook his head. I noticed that his hair was perfectly styled, and in the early morning sunlight, his pale skin looked like porcelain. I studied his face while he spoke. He looked like a painting of a classical figure by one of those Romance era painters, Waterhouse or Rosetti. His lips were red and full, and his nose was regal. There was no other word for it. His features were delicate while still being masculine. He gripped the wheel with long strong-looking fingers.

"Do you play an instrument?" I asked suddenly, and then realized I had interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," I said hastily, "That was really rude. I'm sorry."  
"You don't have to apologize, Lyric," he said seriously, glancing over at me, "I do. I play the violin and viola."

I nodded to myself, I had thought so. I had noticed callouses when he had turned up the heat, and when he was driving, he moved his fingers as if he was playing a series of chords with one hand.

"How could you tell?" he asked me, tilting his head to look at me.

I gestured to his right hand, "You were moving your fingers to match the chords on the piece you're playing on your stereo."

He looked surprised, "Do you know this music?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Sort of," I answered, "I don't know who's playing, but it's theme from _The Red Violin."_

James nodded, "You've seen it?"

"Yes," I answered quietly, "I loved it."

I saw that we were getting close to school, "You can drop me here if you want," I told him.

We were about two blocks from the school, but we were in town now and there were sidewalks.

"Why would I drop you off here?" he asked.

I felt awkward, but I didn't want him to be seen with me if he didn't want that, "I just…" I started, "I don't want you to feel like you need to bring me right there."  
"Lyric," he asked, as if trying to make out my meaning, "Do you not want to be seen with me at school?"

"No!" I blurted out quickly, "No! Not that at all! I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to think that. The opposite," I answered.

"You think I won't want to be seen with you?" he asked.

I shrugged, "It's okay if you don't. I really appreciated the ride. I don't…"

He interrupted me and when I looked over I saw his cheeks had reddened and he was gripping the steering wheel tightly, "I'll bring you right to school, Lyric," he said, "I have no problem being seen with you."

I had really offended him, "Okay," I whispered, and pushed my lip to my teeth with my finger. I didn't know how to fix this, and I had the sinking feeling I couldn't.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think. If you've read it- if you want to read more... Looking for feedback!**


	5. Second Chances

James parked the car toward the back of the lot and was around to my side and opening my door before I could gather my thoughts.

"Thanks," I said, when he opened the door.

"You're welcome, Lyric," he said quietly, thoughtfully, and not quite making eye contact.

I sighed and hitched my backpack further onto my back before following him into the building.

"I'll find you after school," he said when we got to the doors.

"What?" I asked gracelessly.

James smiled, a ghost of a smile that transformed his face from gorgeous to godlike.

"I'll find you after school and I'll give you a ride," he told me. He continued to smile but his tone was firm, unyielding.

"I have to go to the laundromat after school," I said, wishing so much that I could accept his ride like any other normal girl would, "and then I have to babysit."

"I'll bring you," he said, "I'll do homework while you do your wash."  
"That sounds really boring for you," I replied.

James shook his head, "No," he answered, "I don't think it will be. I'll see you around Lyric Sorenson," he said.

I gave him a tiny finger wave and made my way to the locker room. Actually, I floated to the locker room. Somehow, James had forgiven me. And he would see me after school. Almost like a friend would. He'd thrown it out so casually, " _I'll find you after school and give you a ride."_ The voice in my head deepened as I replayed it over and over.

The locker room was empty at this hour, and I had a routine that I had perfected over the last two months that would get me in and out of the shower in less than five minutes. Our school had separate showers for girls, instead one big shower room like they'd had at some of my old schools, and a changing room in the front of each shower.

I had learned from experience to stow my bag in my gym locker, and take only what I absolutely needed into the changing room. If I took more, someone could swipe it. I stripped quickly and before the water warmed up, jumped in, dumping the bodywash on top of my head and doing a sort of gravity fed cleaning. Scrub hair, scrub face, scrub hands, scrub body, water off.

I jumped out, shivering, and put my clothes back on. I flipped my head over, twisting my hair so the excess water would soak my sweatshirt and held it there while I got my bag out of my locker and went to the mirror that had a shelf in front of it. I rested my bag there and stared at my reflection. Despite the cold shower, my cheeks were flushed with a hectic color. My stomach felt nervous and jumbly, but different than the anxiety I usually felt. I tried to nail it down. I think… I think it was excitement.

I looked down at my bag, opening up a front pocket and digging for an elastic. I wrapped my hair around and around in a high bun on top of my head and then caught a look at my face. I had a half smile and I was biting my lip.

I took a deep breath, _focus, Lyric, focus. It's just a ride._ My mental voice deepened again, _I'll see you around Lyric Sorenson._

I shifted my bag onto my back. _Okay,_ I thought, _I can do this._


	6. Humanities with Taylor

I had plenty of time to grab breakfast and make it to my humanities classroom. Humanities was a combination of English and History, and it was taught by two teachers. It lasted two periods, and was, some mornings, painfully hard to stay awake in. I stood by the door, which was still locked, and waited for the bell.

Some students hung out in the quad in the mornings, chatting with friends or making out. Others stayed in the parking lot until the very last minute, no matter what the weather. It seemed like each group had a place to gather. When I had moved here, and had to figure out the social system of the school, this was one of the hardest things to get. In some schools, I could hang in the library, others, by my locker. But here, classes and the library were locked until the first bell and the teachers arrived. The hallway by my locker was adopted by a clique of girls who would gather in a big circle and stare at their phones while giggling and looking over their shoulders. It was hard enough to get to my locker without getting eyerolls and comments from them, let alone just stand there, waiting for first warning bell.

"Good morning, Lyric," a polite voice said.

"Good morning, Mrs. Young," I replied, as the History teacher unlocked the door.

I took my seat, one in the back corner, closest to the door, and pulled out my three-ring binder, waiting for the rest of the class. I took out _Dr. Zhivago_ and was soon completely engrossed in the description of the funeral of Yuri Zhivago's mother. It was so vivid, and so sad, that I felt a lump start to form in my throat.

"Hey Crash," a deep voice said next to me, "How were the trails this morning?"

I jumped at the voice and stared up. Taylor, the boy from last night, looked down at me, a crooked smile on his face. His hair was wet, like he'd just taken a shower, and he had a plaid shirt over a grey henley and jeans. He had nothing in his hands and no backpack on his back.

"How do you take notes?" I asked confused.

His crooked smile got wider and he sat in the desk across from me, "Don't need notes, Crash," he said, tapping his forehead, "I store it all up here."

I noticed a drawl in his voice, like he was from the south. I stared for a second before mentally shaking myself and nodding.

"Let me know if you want to borrow a pencil," I said quietly, students filing into the classroom quickly now, and the volume raising exponentially.

"I'll let you know what I need, Crash," he said in a tone I recognized as teasing.

I felt myself start to smile, but I quickly bit my lip and stared back down at my book.

"Okay," Mrs. Young called out, "Everybody get out a pencil and a piece of paper! Pop quiz! I want to make sure you actually read _Dr. Zhivago_ last night."

I pulled a piece of paper out of the notebook and grabbed the extra pen I had put on the top of the desk, holding it out.

"Do you…" I looked up at the voice. Taylor had moved closer to whisper to me. His face was so close to mine I could see the shades of green in his eyes. He had a self-deprecating smile on his face, that disappeared and became serious as his eyes roamed my face.

"Here," I whispered, getting his attention.

His eyes flicked down to my hands, and the smile appeared again. His eyes creased at the sides, and I noticed he must have been squinting against the sun a lot because he had different shades of tan around his eyes. They flicked back up to my face and I felt his hands on mine as he took the paper and pen from me. I couldn't stop the shiver that encompassed my body at his warm touch.

He winked at me, "Thanks," he said, and pulled away. I blinked, suddenly feeling like I was missing something.

"You're welcome," I whispered, and pulled back into my seat, facing forward again.

"Hey, Lyric," I heard a mock whisper and looked up. The boy in front of Taylor had turned in his seat and was looking at me.

"Yes?" I asked politely, wondering if he needed a pencil too, and mentally cataloguing the contents of my bag.

"If you're handing shit out," he said, "I know what you could give me," his hand grabbed his crotch, and though I didn't really understand what he meant, I certainly understood his intention.

My face flamed and I looked down quickly at my desk, mortified.

I heard the scraping of a desk being slid across the floor and looked over to see Taylor kicking the kid's desk forward with his foot, "Shut the fuck up, dickwad," he said.

The boy's face flushed, obviously not expecting anyone to say anything. He narrowed his eyes at me before giving me a sickly sweet smile, "My bad," he whispered, and turned back around in his seat.

I gripped my pencil tightly, and waited for Mrs. Young to call out the first question.

"Crash?" Taylor whispered tonelessly to me.

I looked over at him questioningly before returning my gaze to the front of the room, "He's an idiot," he said, "ignore him."  
I bit my lip to keep from smiling and nodded my head. I looked over again. His face was serious and he gave me a smile.

"Thanks for the save," he said, wiggling the pencil at me.

I nodded again, feeling my smile widen.

"What is Yuri Zhivago's mother buried with?" Mrs. Young called out, getting my attention.

I started writing my answer, but my mind was occupied with the two boys I had met, and how, in the space of a morning, they had somehow managed to make me feel like my entire life was improving.


	7. The New Boy

Humanities passed in a blur. I tried not to sneak looks at Taylor, but it was hard. Really really hard.

The bell rang and I looked down at my notebook, I had written just one thing: the date.

 _How had I managed not to absorb a single piece of information?_

"Where to?"

I looked up and saw Taylor waiting for me. He held the pen out toward me and I took it, sliding it into my backpack. I carefully closed my folder while I pulled my thoughts together.

"Um, physics?" I said.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" he joked, the half smile appearing on his face.

I felt myself smile back, before mashing my lips together, "Telling?"

Taylor snorted and took my bag from me, looping it over one shoulder.

"I can carry it," I said quietly, reaching for it.

"I got it," he said and nodded his head toward the door, "lead the way."

We started walking down the overcrowded hallway, "A friend of mine is in physics," he told me as I twisted and turned my body to avoid getting knocked by other kids.

"Oh?" I asked, "This is me," I added, pointing to my locker.

I started working on the combination and put out my hand for my backpack. He held it out to me as I pulled out my physics book and notebook and stuffed it into my backpack, along with my calculus book. Since the math and science wing was downstairs, I wouldn't have time to get from physics to my locker, and back downstairs to calculus.

Taylor leaned his back against the locker and stared across the hall as I switched out items.

"Today's his first day," Taylor added, turning to face me, propping his elbow on the wall and then leaning his hand against his hand.

"I hate switching schools when it's already started," I replied sympathetically. If my mom and I lasted a year in a town, that was a lot.

"Yeah," Taylor said noncommittally, "He was overseas, so don't feel too bad for him. James and I were the ones who had to move all his crap into his new house."

I made a move with my backpack but Taylor plucked it from my hand.

"He's new to this town?" I asked.

Taylor nodded, "James and I have lived here a while, but Kell moved from England."

"Really?" I asked. I had always wanted to go to England, especially after reading Jane Eyre, and watching Pride and Prejudice, "Is that where he was?"

I hadn't noticed that Taylor was neatly maneuvering me through the halls, I hadn't been bumped or banged once, and we'd somehow managed to get to physics.

Just. Not _my_ physics class.

"I'm in Mr. Johnson's," I said pointing down the hall.

"AP physics?" he asked, surprised.

I nodded, a little embarrassed. I was the only sophomore in the class, but I was really good at math, so physics wasn't too difficult for me. I had started in this class, but after the first test, I had been placed in AP physics. It was extra work, because I was learning about two concepts to every one that was introduced in class, but I liked it.

Taylor walked me to the next door, "I guess you're going to meet him now. I wondered if you'd have class at the same time, but he's a junior, so I just assumed no."  
I was surprised when Taylor walked me right into class and sat next to me at a table. I looked nervously at Mr. Johnson, but he didn't seem to care.

"Taylor," I heard a deep, accented voice say, "shouldn't you be in gym?"

I looked up and saw a boy. It was silly, actually, to call him a boy, because he looked much older than any of the boys I went to school with.

Well, besides Taylor and James, who looked like models playing high school kids, and who acted much older.

Everything about this boy seemed to project confidence. He wore a black motorcycle jacket, a pressed, button-down shirt, and jeans with motorcycle boots. His hair was dark, almost black, and slightly curled. His eyes were dark as well, and seemed a bit cold. He was English, from his accent, but his skin and hair made me think his parents might be from India or Pakistan. He had the shadow of scruff on his face, and when he spoke, his cheek creased with a dimple. How was it possible that in the space of two days, I just met three of the most beautiful people I'd ever seen in my life.

"Hey," Taylor said, nonchalantly, "I thought you might like a friend."

Kell's dark eyes flickered over to me, but he didn't speak.

"Lyric," Taylor said, "This is Kell Garewal. Kell, this is Lyric…"  
"Sorenson," I said, when it became clear he was waiting for me, "Lyric Sorenson."

"She's a sophomore," Taylor said, "we met her when she took her bike off-road. Since you're into crashing bikes, I thought you'd hit it off."

Kell raised his eyebrow a fraction of an inch, but still said nothing.

Taylor stood up and winked at me, "I'll see you around, Lyric," he said.

He stared at Kell for a moment, as if communicating with him silently. I saw Kell's shoulders relax a smidge and then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. My face flushed as I realized I was staring and I quickly looked down at the table.

The chair next to mine pulled out noiselessly and I felt, rather than heard, Kell sit down.

"Lyric," Kell said, his voice deep and melodic, "It's nice to meet you."


	8. Kell

"It's nice to meet you as well," I said to him politely.

"Alright students," Mr. Johnson sneered, "Get out your books."

I dug quickly in my bag for my physics book. On the surface, Mr. Johnson had little patience for students. He was outwardly rude and snippy, but he was actually a really good teacher. You just had to stay on his good side. Because I did my homework and didn't speak unless he called on me, he was generally pretty nice to me.

I pushed my book to the center of the table, assuming, correctly it turned out, that Kell hadn't been given a textbook yet and not wanting him to get lost when Mr. Johnson lectured. Details weren't Mr. Johnson's strong suit. He was probably a genius, but more than once I'd seen him with two different shoes. He would never notice that he'd forgotten to give a textbook to a new student. In fact, he probably wouldn't even notice a new student.

I saw Kell reach down into a worn leather messenger bag at his side to pull out paper and a pencil as Mr. Johnson began to lecture and I willed myself to pay attention. I looked down at the book when he referenced it, and copied the problems on the board. I began to work at them quietly, finishing before many of the other students had, except for Kell.

"Do you mind?" he asked politely, and gestured toward my paper.

I shook my head.

"You're a sophomore?" he asked without looking up as he seemed to, _wait, was he correcting my work?_ He made a dot next to one of my answers and passed it back to me.

"Yes," I answered, and then, to my chagrin, realized I had made a mistake. I began at the top of the problem and started checking my work, noting where I'd gone wrong.

I put the eraser of the pencil in my mouth as I mentally redid each step. I happened to look up, and saw Kell staring at my mouth. I hastily removed it, which made his eyes glance up at mine. I noticed a flush of color on his cheekbones, like he was embarrassed.

"It's okay," I answered quickly, "I appreciate you checking my work." I assumed he was embarrassed that he had taken the liberty of looking it over.

He looked at my face, maybe trying to decide if I was serious or not. Apparently he saw that I was, because his lips curled in a smile, "You're welcome, Lyric," he said.

I looked over at his sheet, "Would you like me to check your answers?" I asked.

His eyes widened in surprised and his smile stretched from cheek to cheek, the dimple deepening, "Um," he hesitated, "Yes. If you don't mind, that is."

I shook my head and slid his paper toward me, biting on my eraser again as I went over each answer, step by step. I used the same notation he did, and put a dot next to a mistake I found before sliding it back to him.

He looked down and chuckled soundlessly, "Thank you, Lyric," he said, looking up at me, his dark eyes warm and glowing, "I missed that."  
I nodded, feeling my face flush, "My pleasure," I replied.

When the bell rang, I hastily gathered my notes, "You'll need to ask Mr. Johnson for a textbook," I said quietly, "He's won't even notice you've joined the class unless you do."  
Kell nodded at me, "Wait here?" he asked, as he made his way to our teacher.

I crossed my arms as I waited, trying not to intrude on his conversation with Mr. Johnson, and watching the students file out. I felt a nudge on my shoulder and looked over.

One of the senior girls in the class watched me with narrowed eyes, "What are you waiting for?" she asked nastily, "Him?" She looked over at Kell who was deep in conversation with Mr. Johnson about something. Her eyes raked me from top to bottom, as if cataloguing every single flaw in my appearance, "You wish."

I lifted my finger up to my lower lip and pushed at it. In comparison to her, I would definitely be found wanting. Her hair was a mass of auburn curls, and she had bright blue eyes, almost turquoise. Her skin was rosy and clear and her clothes were that completely unreachable combination (at least for me) of worn and new.

"Ready to go?" Kell's musical voice asked me.

I looked up at him nervously, before sliding a glance at the senior standing at my elbow.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" she asked.

"I don't know your name," I whispered honestly.

The flirty smile left the girl's face as she pinned me with an angry glare, "You're so funny!" she giggled, "She's so funny," she said to Kell before reaching out a perfectly manicured hand, "I'm Riley," she said.

"Hello," Kell answered, the hard look he'd had earlier back in place. He reached over and gently disentangled my arm, pulling off my backpack so he could carry it. I felt his hand at my lower back, and I tensed, before willing myself to relax.

He pushed me gently toward the door, leaving Riley staring after us.

"Can't get enough physics Miss Vicks?" I heard Mr. Johnson say to her, "Get out of here."  
Kell had the same way of moving through the halls that Taylor did. It was if a path was cleared, and even in the really busy sections of the hall, the sea of people seemed to part for him. I stood a little bit before him, walking in the directions he nudged me. His hand on my back didn't bother me, in fact, it felt like his hand was directly connected to my lungs, opening them up so I could get the first deep breath I'd had in forever.

Kell stopped suddenly, and looked down at me, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "I realize I don't know where your class is," he said.

I smiled and lifted my hand, pointing to the next door, "Right there," I said.

He followed my point and then glanced back down at me, "Calculus with James?" he said.

"Yes," I answered, "I didn't realize he was even in my class until yesterday."  
Kell cocked his head to the side, weighing the truth in my words. He nodded to himself as if making up his mind and gently pushed me forward and into the class. He followed me as I went to my usual desk and waited next to me.

"Do you have this class, too?" I asked, looking up at him as I sat.

He shook his head, "No," he answered.

I wondered why he was waiting, and if he knew, or cared, that he would be late for his next class if he continued to stand there, "Where's your next class?" I asked.

I noticed he was getting quite a few sideways glances and coy looks from other students, but he seemed completely at ease, "I have Probability and Statistics next door."

I nodded, "We only have three minutes between classes," I told him.

He regarded me seriously, "Are you trying to get me to leave?" he asked.

 _Oh no._ I thought, _I did it again._

I shook my head vigorously, "No," I said, "I just… I didn't know if you knew… I didn't want you to be late."  
It sounded lame.

He smiled at me, "I'm not worried."

"Hi Lyric!" I heard James' voice.

I saw James enter the classroom and gave him a small wave and happy smile. He smiled at me widely, his handsome face alight. He noticed Kell standing next to my desk and looked confused.

"Lyric is in my physics class," Kell explained.

"Oh," James' face cleared. Kell and James stared at each other for a moment, and I got the feeling that they were doing that same silent communication thing that Taylor had done with Kell before.

"It was nice to meet you, Lyric," Kell said to me, his gaze landing on mine.

I gave him a small wave, "Likewise," I said.

I heard a snort, and a high-pitched mocking, "Likewise." I ducked my head, embarrassed. I heard a scuffle and looked up quickly to see James holding a hand against Kell's chest.

I followed Kell's gaze and saw the same boy who was in my Humanities class.

Kell stared a moment longer at the boy, before tearing his eyes away and looking at me. He nodded once, and left, not looking back.


	9. Keefe

**Keefe**

Despite James' polite demeanor, I could see that he was struggling with how to react to the boy from Humanities. Finally he settled on glaring, before adding, "Move."

The boy looked at him in confusion and James cracked his knuckles, his strong hands clenching and unclenching, "You're sitting in my seat," he said quietly, his voice low in anger. If he had used that voice with me, I would have run from the room in terror. It was just as effective as Kell's physical intimidation, "and you are also too close to Lyric."

He kept his eyes on the boy and pointed to the other side of the classroom, "I suggest you move over there."

The boy stared in shock, before blinking and standing up slowly. He was nearly as tall as James, but stockier, more barrel-chested, "Fuck you," he said to him, "you fucking fairy."

I bit my lip, scared that he was going to throw a punch at James, who looked strong, but not as strong as the boy.

James took a step forward, before smiling wickedly, "Throw a punch, Keefe," he said quietly, "Please. Do it. You didn't want to play in this Friday's game anyway."

I watched the boy, Keefe, take a deep breath, and get himself under control, "Nah," he said, smiling widely and grandly, "You ain't big enough." Keefe moved past James, slamming a shoulder into his as he walked by, but James was like a rock, and it was Keefe who was knocked to the side.

"Piece of used up pussy. Ain't worth the trouble," he said, as he tried to regain his balance, and looked directly at me.

"Keep it up," James said, but Keefe shook his head, and walked on, sitting in a desk across the room and glaring at me angrily. I had a feeling I had made an enemy. Somehow, I had gone from being invisible to being very visible. I couldn't be sorry, though, because I liked these boys. They made me feel like I was worth something.

James sat down at the desk next to mine and cracked his knuckles, closing his eyes, before opening them again and looking at me, "I'm sorry about that," he said, "Keefe and I go way back."

"That's okay," I said, disagreeing with him completely, "It was my fault."

"It most certainly was _not_ your fault," he said to me passionately, "if nothing else, please believe that."

I pushed my lip to my teeth and bit down on it. James watched my mouth, and I felt myself blush, before suddenly giggling as I replayed the events in my head.

"What?" he asked me, smiling in response to my smile.

"He quoted _The Very Grouchy Lady Bug,_ " I said, "I've read it about a million times to one of my charges, but I never expected to hear it quoted in real life."

James laughed out loud. He had a great laugh, it came right from his chest and burst out of him, striking me as completely genuine. I found myself laughing at his laugh.

"All right, my darlings," a singsong voice got my attention as our teacher called us to order, "Put your books away, and pull out a pencil. It's time for our chapter test."

The room was filled with groans, but I had to bite my lip to stop my smile, not because of the test, but because I think I had made a friend.


	10. Visible

Calculus passed quickly. After our chapter test, we were to start on our homework. The math was getting harder and harder as the months progressed and I found myself struggling with a problem. I chewed on my eraser, trying to figure out my next step, when I happened to glance up and see James staring at me.

"Need help?" he asked.

I nodded.

He pulled his desk closer to mine and started following my work, marking his progression with his pencil. He stared at the paper, fully engrossed, and it gave me an opportunity to study him. He had the smoothest skin I had ever seen on a person, it was pale, like he didn't go outside much, but nothing about him looked soft. His upper lip was fully than his lower lip and he pressed them together as he studied my paper.

"Here," he said, finally, looking at me and making a dot next to my mistake.

I smiled, "Kell did the same thing when he checked my work in physics," I said.

James looked up at me, surprised, "Oh?" he said, "Kell checked your work?  
"Yes," I answered, "why?"

"No reason," James said, shaking his head.

I took my sheet from him and went over the paper, noting where I had made a mistake, and then redoing the problem. It worked out, and I was relieved; I hated asking the teacher for help. While she was nice, she would make me stand at the front of the room while she did the problem on the board, her attitude being that, if I had trouble with it, other people probably did and would benefit from seeing it.

I was able to finish my homework before the end of the class, and stood up, a little bit sad because I didn't think that I would have anymore classes with the boys for the rest of today.

"What is next for you?" James asked, reaching for my bag.

I let him take it, and bit my lip to keep from smiling as I realized that each of the boys had carried my bag for me. It made me feel like I was some kind of southern belle. Boys in Maine just didn't have manners like this.

I tapped my finger on my chin as I thought, "Lunch, gym, study hall, art," I listed.

James studied me as I ran down my schedule, "I don't have lunch the same lunch as you," he said, "but I think Taylor might."

"What about tomorrow?" I said, without thinking, and then putting my finger on my lip to stop the rush of words.

James smiled at me as he led me out of the classroom. _What was it with these boys and the gentle hand to the back?_ I was getting used to it and kind of loving it, no, not kind of, definitely loving it.

"Tomorrow I have 'A' lunch," he said, glancing down at me quickly before moving me out of the way of a bunch of football players who were tossing someone's lunch back and forth through the air.

"Me, too," I answered.

"We can eat together," James informed me, "Kell and Taylor have 'A' lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays so we'll all meet and eat together."

I nodded my head, a bubble of happiness erupting inside me, "Okay," I squeaked.

We had reached the lunch room and James began looking around, "There's Taylor," he said and nodded his head at someone I couldn't see over the crush of people.

"Howdy Crash," I heard Taylor's drawl.

"Hi Taylor," I answered shyly.

"Oh no," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and taking my bag from James, "You can't be shy again. I spent all of Humanities buttering you up."  
I couldn't help the laugh that came out of my belly. Taylor smiled broadly at me, his dimples visible in his smooth cheeks. I looked over at James and saw him smiling just as widely.

"Okay," Taylor laughed and waved James away, "It's my turn now. Stop lurking."  
"Remember," James told me, "I'm giving you a ride after school, so wait for me in the quad."

I nodded, "Okay."

Taylor pulled me away from James and led me to a line. I pointed my finger at the salad bar and told him, "I'll be right back."

Taylor didn't look happy about it, but he nodded, "I can't eat their pizza," I told him, noting what was "hot" today, "but you're welcome to it."  
He laughed and squeezed my shoulders. I allowed myself to relax and lean into him a minute, before pulling away. I didn't want him to think I was taking advantage of his niceness.

The salad bar was the one line that always moved quickly, people tended to get quick sandwiches or pizza, but because I was so desperate for vegetables and things that didn't come in cans or cardboard boxes, I always got a salad.

The other good thing about the salad bar, was that when no one was looking, I could empty the extra I took into a ziplock baggy I kept in my backpack. Then I'd have food for later.

I was waiting to have my meal card scanned by the kitchen staff when I heard a throat cleared behind me. No one ever spoke to me, so I ignored it, and continued forward in the line.

I had handed the woman my card when I heard the person clear their throat again and then add, "You could at least thank me for your lunch. I mean, it's my parents tax dollars that make it possible for you to have free lunch, Freeloader."

I felt a rush of heat cover my entire body, but I kept my face resolutely forward. I recognized that voice. It was Riley, the girl from physics.

"Did you hear me, Charity Case?" she hissed at me. I felt her breath on my hair, making it waft toward my face. I lifted a shaky hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, before whispering a quiet, "Thank you," to the staff person, who looked at me sympathetically, and moving away.

An explosion of giggles followed my exit, so I concentrated on walking, the last thing I wanted to do was drop my tray after tripping over my own feet. My humiliation quotient had reached its maximum capacity.

I saw Taylor, waiting for me. He stood with his arms crossed and narrowed his eyes. I faltered a moment, before realizing that he was looking over my shoulder. His eyes flashed back to me and he smiled, but I noticed that it didn't touch his eyes and I couldn't see a dimple.

I kept my eyes on his face, because though he looked pissed, I knew it wasn't directed at me, which made him the only other friendly person in the cafeteria, besides the lunch lady. So it was because of that I felt what happened next instead of seeing it.

"Whoops!"

I felt the weight of a body slam into mine and my tray fold up onto my chest. Two hands grabbed my elbows, holding onto me and pulling me forward.

"What did Taylor call you?" a voice hissed in my ear, "Crash? You should really be more careful," he said the last part loudly while looking around. I couldn't hear anything past the blood whooshing in my ears as my heart pounded. Keefe set me back from him, and my tray dropped noisily to the floor.

 _Well,_ I thought staring down at my salad covered sweatshirt, _people are certainly noticing me now._


	11. Stare-down

_Hi! Sorry for the delay in posting! I hope you enjoy the next two installment, let me know in comments and reviews:) Also- "priya" means "beloved" in hindi. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

I stared, horrified at the mess in front of me, ridiculously close to tears. I made a move to run away, but when I stepped back to turn around, I ran straight into a hard chest. The smell of pine and smoke clung lightly to the person's shirt, and when I craned my neck back to see what pile of mortification I had stepped in, I saw Kell.

He stared over the top of my head at Keefe, his dark face flushed.

"Keefe," he said in his musical voice, "That was a mistake, mate."

Kell moved me to the side, glancing down at my sweatshirt and jeans. I bit my trembling lip and looked up at him through my lashes. Whatever he saw in my face made his soften. He reached out a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. I surprised myself by not flinching, enjoying the feel of his fingers on my skin. In that moment, he had created a bubble of safety around me. The laughter of the other students didn't touch me, and all the additional trouble I would have to go to now, including missing yet another meal, wasn't an issue. Just as long as he kept touching me.

"He's not worth it, Kell," I whispered to him, when I see his demeanor change as he stared at Keefe over my head.

"No," Kell says gently, "He is not. But you are, Priya."

Kell's eyes flashed to someone and I saw Taylor launch himself at Keefe. They went down in a flurry of fists. I could hear the thump of flesh against flesh and I winced, taking a step forward. A hand on my shoulder stopped me and Kell began to lead me out of the cafeteria.

"We can't just leave him there!" I argued, trying to turn around.

"He'll be fine," Kell reassured me, "Trust me. Tay is on the soccer team with Keefe, and Keefe won't rat him out because he doesn't want to be suspended from the home game this week."

"But he could be hurt, Kell," I persist, picturing Taylor's open friendly face, and Keefe's big meaty fists.

"Priya," Kell says quietly, stopping me so that I can face him, "Trust me. He won't be hurt. Taylor knows how to fight. He is sending a warning to Keefe, that is all."

I lifted my finger to my lip, pushing it to my teeth and glancing back worriedly at the cafeteria. Kell followed my gaze and sighed heavily, "Look," he said, and went back to the door, pointing through the window. I glanced in quickly and saw that Taylor was standing behind a group of boys, and Keefe was holding a napkin to his nose. Taylor's shirt was ripped and his hair was messy, but he didn't look injured.

I glanced up at Kell, "Okay?" he asked.

I nodded my head, my shoulders relaxing and I took a deep breath.

And smelled Italian dressing.

I stared down at myself, the damage wasn't too severe, since I had a salad and an unopened bottle of water, but I still had a salad dressing stain on the center of my sweater, along with small pieces of garlic and oregano.

"Thank you for helping me," I said to Kell, and turned to leave, "Again."

"Where are you going?" Kell asked, walking quickly to catch up.

"Bathroom," I answered, "I smell like salad dressing, I'm going to wash some of it off before my next class. I'm going to the laundromat after school anyway, so it can wait until then."

My finger hovered over my lips; I had said much more than I intended.

"I have a better idea," Kell said, reaching a hand up slowly and taking my hand in his, "I will bring you to my house and you can do your laundry there."

I felt my stomach clench in nervousness and Kell squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"You have study hall and art, yeah?" he asked.

I nodded. Kell took out a cell phone and began to tap out a message to someone. I heard the swoosh that signified sent mail and he looked up at me, his dark eyes twinkling and a small smile playing on his lips.

"There," he challenged, "It's taken care of."

"I… how?" I asked wonderingly.

"James," Kell answered, "He will let the office know you needed to go home and he will get you excused absences from your classes."

He began walking down the hall, tugging lightly on my hand to pull me with him. I hitched my bag up on my shoulder, "He can just do that?" I asked.

"Yes," Kell replied, "He's bloody clever."

My bag slipped down, and I shrugged my shoulder to get it back into place. Kell must have felt me struggling because he reached over and took my bag, "I apologize," he said, and when I glanced at him, I saw that his cheeks were red.

"That's okay," I said gently, "It's not your responsibility to carry my bag."

"No," he said, "I swore in front of you, I apologize for that. Though I also should have taken your bag."

I bit my lip, trying to stop the smile threatening to overtake me. Kell continued to hold my hand as we walked through the doors to the parking lot. I got more and more nervous as we walked. I had never left school without permission before.

"It will be all right," he said, stopping and taking my other hand in his, "I promise."

I nodded my head. I wanted to believe turned away from me and began stuffing our bags into the saddlebags on a motorcycle. I stared at it.

"Wait," I interrupted, "Is that what…"

He raised an eyebrow at me as I stared, unsure, at the bike. He took out a helmet and held it out to me, a look of challenge on his face. I struggled with myself; I wanted so much to go with him, to skip school and jump on the back of the motorcycle with this guy, but that was something my mom would do, and I worked really really hard to not make the same mistakes she did.

I stared back at him, and he seemed to realize, it wasn't that I was afraid, but that I was debating something bigger within myself.

"I promise, Lyric," Kell said, the challenging look disappearing, "I just want to help. If you come with me, it won't get you in trouble. I won't buy you alcohol or cigarettes. It won't be the first step down a troubled path, it will just be laundry."

I pushed my lip up to my teeth, "Just laundry?" I asked, looking into his eyes and seeing only truth.

Kell cocked his head, and squinted his eyes, "And lunch," he added, "laundry and lunch."

I let out the breath I had been holding, "Okay." I said, and reached for the helmet.


	12. Bobble head

"Wait," Kell corrected, balancing the helmet on the bike. He took off his jacket and held it out to me. I looked at it confused.

"I don't want you to get road rash; this is in case I ditch the bike," he told me seriously.

I swallowed hard, "Could that happen?"

He smiled at me, his white teeth showing briefly, "No way, I wouldn't take any risks with your beautiful skin."

I couldn't stop the snort and clapped my hand over my face. Kell threw his head back and laughed. _Argh. Even his laugh is attractive,_ I thought.

He held the jacket out and I slipped my arms into it. He turned me around and zipped it all the way up to my neck. He only had on his button down shirt. Without his jacket, I could see how broad his shoulders were. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up, revealing dark, muscular forearms, "What about your skin?" I asked.

"Scars are sexy," he said, "Right?"

 _What was he doing to me?_

I nodded, blushing, but couldn't answer because I was afraid of uttering something completely dorky. Until I realized I'd just told him I thought he was sexy, which was worse.

I tried not to blush as Kell turned away to get the helmet and then fit it to my head. His fingers lifted my chin and tightened the strap, and he flipped the visor down. He got on the bike and kicked up the kickstand before starting it. His jeans were tight against his thighs and I could see his shirt stretched across his back. _Oh holy cow._ I stood next to the bike, feeling awkward, and waited for him to direct me.

Kell held his hand out, and I took it, lifting my leg and swinging it over the bike. I expected Kell to release my arm, but he pulled it around his waist before reaching back and grabbing my other arm and wrapping that around him as well.

I was pressed tightly to his back and he took off. I gripped tighter pressing my front against his back. He went slowly as he drove out of the parking lot, but as soon as he turned onto the main road, he opened it up. I gasped and then laughed, as my stomach racing to catch up with the rest of my body. I closed my eyes and let cool wind whip across my body, the breeze brought with it Kell's pine and smoke smell, like he had been outside burning leaves or building a house, or some other manly activity that made me tingle.

He drove through the center of town and then east, toward the ocean. Soon I could smell the salty air and he was pulling up a brick drive toward a clapboard and shingled house. It was a Georgian Colonial, all multipaned windows and wavy glass, with blue shutters and a blue door. It had an attached four car garage and, I craned my neck, yup, a boat parked next to it.

Kell braced his legs on either side of the bike and helped me off. My legs felt rubbery after the ride and it took a minute to get my balance.

"I feel like a bobblehead," I said in a muffled voice to him as he climbed off after me. I pretended to be guided by my head and made a big circle with my upper body.

"You look like Dark Helmet from Spaceballs," he told me, as my frozen fingers attempted to unlatch the chin strap.

"I don't know that movie," I told him as I pulled it off of my head and tossed my hair over my shoulder.

He stared at me for a moment, "What?" I asked him, "Is it a really popular movie or something?"

He shook his head, "No," he replied, "it's not that…"  
I put my hand up to my hair and tried to finger comb it, "Ouch!" I said as my fingers caught in tangles. I slowly wiggled my fingers, loosening the knots until I could pull my fingers through.

I unzipped the coat and handed it to him. I was about eye-level with his chest and saw that two of his top buttons had come undone in the wind. I reached forward without thinking and buttoned them up. His hand came up to grip mine, his palm warm and I stopped, my breathing catching as I slowly lifted my eyes to his.

His dark face was serious. A curl had fallen across his forehead and I reached my hand up to bravely push it back. When I looked back down at his face, I saw that his eyes had closed. I let my hand drift down his face to cup his jaw, before stepping away from him.

"I think I promised you laundry," he said, his voice low and rough.

My finger came up to my lips, pushing it to my teeth and I blinked up at him.

He continued to watch my face as his hand came up to my lip, pulling it away from my teeth before lacing my fingers with his. He gave me a small smile and I felt my heart thunder in my chest.

"And lunch," I whispered, "you also promised me lunch."

"Of course," he corrected, "lunch as well."

He held my hand as he pulled our bags from the saddlebags and went inside. He dropped them by the door. I attempted to kick my shoes off, but he stopped me, "What are you doing?"

"Um," I said hesitantly, "taking my shoes off so I don't get your floors dirty."

He shook his head, "Leave them on," he told me, "It's fine."

I shrugged and kept walking. At my house, I kept my shoes on until I got to my room, then I took them off. My room was generally the only clean place in our house, and though I tried to tidy the rest of the house, my mother and Tim brought so many people over that it was often impossible to clean. It was like years of dirt had been ground into the rug and no amount of vacuuming and hand scrubbing was going to clean it.

"Lunch first," Kell told me as he led the way to the kitchen, "laundry second."

I couldn't help looking around me as we walked. The entryway opened to a large central staircase, two rooms were visible from the door; the living room to the right, and the dining area to the left. Everything was decorated in period appropriate furniture, and much of the original features of the home were still in place, like individual panes of glass and giant fireplaces.

I followed Kell through the dining room and into a very modern kitchen that, along with fancy stainless steel appliances, also had a huge hearth and a cast iron stove.

"This is beautiful," I breathed. I wondered what it was like to live in a place like this. It was warm and clean, and the lights turned on.

Kell threw me a smile before walking over to the stove, turning on a kettle, and then gathering bread and other goodies from the refrigerator.

"Can I help?" I asked. My cooking abilities were sorely limited by my budget. I would like to make more than spaghettios, but when that was all you could afford, it was hard to practice cooking other things.

Kell shook his head, and gestured with his elbow to a chair at the kitchen island, "Just relax," he said.

I sat into the chair and propped my chin in my hands, watching him slice tomatoes and cheese, chop garlic and basil and mix it all together with butter before spreading it on bread. He pulled out a panini press and put the sandwiches in. Soon the smell of melted cheese hit my nose and my stomach rumbled. I sat up quickly and covered it with my hands, embarrassed, but Kell just smiled at me.

I realized that we'd been sitting in silence and it hadn't been awkward. Of course, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I started feeling awkward, but rather than just spout nonsense, I stayed quiet.

The kettle started to whistle, making me jump. Kell calmly pulled it off the stove, dropped two tea bags into mugs, and poured in water.

"Huh," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Well," I said, pushing my lip to my teeth, "It's just that… you're English. I expected something fancier."

"Fancier?" Kell asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting the panini press lid to check on the sandwiches.

"Loose tea, a teapot, a tea cozy, china cups."

"I've lived in the States a long time," Kell explained.

I heard a door slam, "Kell?" a voice called.

It was Taylor.

"We're in the kitchen," Kell called back.

I stood up quickly, walking over to the doorway and when Taylor walked through, I didn't think, I just wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. His arms went around me and I felt him lean his cheek against the top of my head.

"What's this for, Crash?" he asked, his voice slow and accent thick.

I pulled back, surprised at myself. I crossed my arms, but looked him over, trying to find any sign of injury.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Taylor's green eyes became soft and he gave me a half smile, his dimples appearing, "I'm fine. Keefe might be big, but I hit harder."

He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me, walking back to the island, and sitting in the chair next to me, "Tea?" he scoffed at Kell.

Kell didn't look at him, but I saw a small smile appear on his mouth.

"Your tea's in the fridge," he told Taylor.

"Can I get it for you?" I asked, my finger hovering over my lips. I wanted to do something for him. I felt so guilty that he had fought Keefe for me.

Taylor looked at me surprised, "Um, sure."

I jumped out of my chair and looked over at the cabinets. Luckily each door was paned in glass, so I didn't have to search in each cabinet. I pulled out a glass and opened the refrigerator, there was a pitcher of tea inside. I got ice from the freezer and filled up the glass before putting in the tea. The kitchen had a tiny herb garden planter above the sink so I pulled off a sprig of mint and put it in the glass before bringing it to Taylor.

"Thank you," I said to him, handing him the glass.

He smiled at me, his eyes bright, "Any time Crash," he answered, pushing his hair back from his forehead before taking a sip.

I watched his strong throat swallow, and had to tear my gaze away. Kell saved me by handing me my mug of tea. I cupped my palms around it, letting the heat warm me, and put my face close to the steaming liquid, breathing in deeply.

"What kind of tea is this?" I asked, it was so fragrant.

"Here we go," Taylor said, taking a bite out of the panini that Kell had just put on a plate.

"That was mine, Neanderthal," Kell muttered.

"What's yours is mine," Taylor answered, chewing happily.

Kell rolled his eyes before handing me a plate with my panini. I took a bite and groaned, chewing slowly. It had so many different flavors and they all blended together so well. I closed my eyes and took another bite, focusing on the burst of tomato and the bite of garlic. I wished I could eat like this everyday.

I opened my eyes and saw both Kell and Taylor staring at me with strange looks on their faces. I swallowed, "Thank you, Kell," I said quietly, "It's delicious."

Kell nodded, his face darkening, and stormed out of the kitchen. I put the sandwich down, my appetite suddenly gone.

"What did I do?" I asked Taylor, feeling my eyes fill with tears. I willed them back and ground my palms against my eyes when they threatened to spill over.

Taylor moved fast, wrapping me in his arms and squeezing me tightly. I could feel his cheek on my head again as he rubbed his face back and forth across my hair, "Nothing," Taylor reassured me, "It's all Kell. He's a moody son of a bitch. Has nothin' to do with you."

I took in a shuddering breath; I had done something, I knew it.


	13. Moody Boys

**Moody Boys**

"Taylor!"

Taylor folded the book on his chest and gave me a smile, "Up here, Kell!" he yelled back.

I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs, and Kell's head emerged a moment later. He looked at Taylor's head on my lap, and I couldn't help the flush that overtook me. I pushed my lip to my teeth and waited nervously for him to say something. We'd had our own moment earlier and now here I was, playing with Taylor's hair.

"What are you doing?" he asked, propping one arm on the railing and watching my hands, which I folded in my lap.

"Homework," Taylor said, as it it had a double meaning.

Kell raised an eyebrow and Taylor held up the book, "Homework," he repeated.

Kell looked at me and smiled, "This must be your influence," he said in a friendly tone, "Taylor never willingly does homework."

I wasn't sure how to answer; he had gone from angry, to questioning, to joking in a moment. I was feeling nervous about saying something else that may set him off, so I looked down at Taylor.

"I…" I stopped and started again, "I have to babysit, so I don't know if I'll have time when I get home."

At the mention of home, I saw Kell's eyes flicker to Taylor, who moved into a sitting position. They seemed to be saying something to each other without saying a word.

"Where do you need to go?" Kell finally asked, his face seemed to darken again.

I could feel my palms start to sweat and I rubbed them against my jeans, _why was he so angry?_

"Um," I replied, "I babysit for Mrs. Jocelin, the gym teacher. She lives just outside of town, on route 1. Her mother watches him during the day, and we switch after school."

Kell nodded, "James will arrive shortly to bring you there," Kell told me.

I got the feeling I was being dismissed and stood up, "Oh, okay. I'll just get my clothes and wait outside for him. Thank you for bringing me here, to do my laundry, and for earlier as well," I said politely and started down the stairs.

"Jesus, Kell," I heard Taylor breathe. I just wanted to get outside before I did something stupid, like cry.

Kell stopped me as I would have walked by him, "Lyric," he said quietly, his hand gentle on my arm and his dark brown eyes flashing at me.

I watched him questioningly, and he sighed, "You don't need to wait outside."

I looked at the floor and kept walking down the stairs. I wanted to get out of here, away from the beautiful boys in the beautiful house full of food and back to my life. It hurt too much to have a just a taste and know the whole time I don't belong.

As we came down the staircase I saw my clothes folded neatly on a upholstered chair.

"Do you mind if I change quickly?" I asked.

"Of course not," Kell answered, and opened the door to the room I had been in earlier.

He closed the door behind me and I quickly stripped out of Taylor's clothes and pulled on mine. I put on the t-shirt I had on yesterday and grabbed the cable knit sweater that I had paired it with. I saw that I had managed to tear a hole in the elbow from my fall off the bike. I hadn't seen that last night and it felt like the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen. It was stupid really, it was just a hole. I could find some scrap fabric and make patches for the elbows, but did everything I own have to have a hole in it?

I choked on a sob and put my hand up to cover my mouth. I took some deep breaths, biting my lip, but then I caught my reflection in the beautiful vanity. My face was red because I was holding my breath, trying to keep in the sob, and my mouth was all drawn up. _I look so ugly!_ I thought, and that was it, the sob I had been holding in came out.

I heard a knock at the door, and Kell, "Lyric?" he called, "Are you okay?"

I took a deep breath, and called out, "I'm fine," in probably the most pathetic voice I had ever heard emanate from my throat.

"Lyric," I heard him say, then I heard a thump, like he had banged his head on the door.

"I'm coming in," he said a moment later.

"No!" I cried out, hastily wiping my face with my sleeve, "Don't come in!"

But the knob turned and he was entering, his strong brows drawn together in concern, "Priya," he breathed when he saw me, closing the door quickly behind him and walking over to me.

He cupped my cheek in his hand and tilted my head back so I was looking into his eyes, "Priya," he whispered, "What's the matter?" His accent was thick and made it hard for me to understand him.

I tried to look down, but he tilted my chin with his fingers so I couldn't. His eyes searched my face, both hands moving to cup my face while his thumbs wiped under my eyes.

"I'm hideous," I said, sniffling.

His deep dimple appeared in one cheek and I saw him bite the inside of his cheek, "Impossible," he whispered, staring into my eyes.

"I have holes in my sleeves," I added, whispering.

"Holes are very fashionable right now," he replied, and I couldn't help smiling.

"Then I must be the height of fashion, because everything I own has a hole," I said seriously, making the smile disappear from his face.

I reached up to grip the hands that still held my face in order to move away from him, but after wrapping my hands around his forearms, I stopped when his eyes seemed to blaze at me. He leaned his face closer to me until I could feel his breath and all I could see were his eyes. I struggled to keep my eyes open but I didn't want to look away. Whatever was going to happen, I wanted to see it. Kell leaned his forehead against mine and his dark eyes closed, his thick lashes lying like crescents against his cheeks.

"What are you doing to me, Priya?" he asked, almost to himself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

His eyes opened, and it was like staring into a fire, "No," he said passionately, " because I am not."


	14. babysitting

My eyes widened at Kell's words and I smiled. His eyes continued to bore into mine, but he smiled as well before sighing and pulling away. His hands dropped to my shoulders and ran down my arms until he could grip my hands. He squeezed them and pulled me to the door.  
"I don't want you to be late," he told me, "even if I don't want you to go."

I pressed my lips together, feeling slightly giddy, and followed him out the room and down the stairs. Just as we got to the bottom, Taylor came out of the dining room. He was holding a paper bag in his hand and a bottle of water in the other.

"Here," he said, handing it to me, "dinner."

My eyes widened, "Really?" I asked, "are you sure?"  
I saw Taylor's eyes flicker to Kell, and I quickly looked at him. He nodded, "Of course," he added, "You didn't even finish your sandwich. You're going to be starving."  
"One more thing," Taylor said, taking my hand from Kell's and pulling me out the door. He led me to his truck, and opened the back, wrestling my bike off the truck bed. He put it on the ground and I saw that he had fixed the wheel so I could ride it again.

"Taylor," I breathed, overwhelmed at his thoughtfulness.

I looked over at him and saw that he was blushing. He shrugged, "It's not a big deal," he said.

I threw myself at him, hugging him tightly, "It is to me," I whispered, and pulled back, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

His arms tightened around me and he leaned his cheek on my head before I pulled away.

"Thank you so much," I said, trying not to cry.

I heard a car drive in behind us, and I turned around to see James pulling into the driveway. He jumped out of the car and walked to me quickly, looking me over from head to toe. I remembered I hadn't seen him since Calculus, but that Kell had told him what had happened in the cafeteria.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his face concerned.

I nodded, "Yes."

I saw him look over to Kell and Taylor. What was it with their mind-reading abilities?

"Someday," I said cheekily, "you're going to have to include me in your mind melds."

I heard Taylor's bark of a laugh, and Kell's deep melodic one. James merely smiled and reached over to take my bike, rolling it to his car and opening the trunk to slide it in.

"Come on Lyric," he said, moving to the passenger's side and opening the door.

I turned to Kell and Taylor, feeling inexplicably sad at leaving them, "Bye," I told them.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kell said seriously.

"Until Humanities," Taylor said, with a half smile that didn't touch his eyes.

I got into the car and James closed the doors. He had music playing. I listened for a moment, it was Dido's Lament, by Purcell. I closed my eyes as Dido sang, singing in my head along with her, _Remember me, Remember me, but aha, forget my fate._

I opened my eyes and saw James talking animatedly to Kell and Taylor. Taylor was looking over at me while Kell stared at the ground, shaking his head. Finally, James made a motion, like he was sweeping something away and turned around toward the car.

"Everything alright?" I asked him as he buckled his belt.

"Fine," he answered, and pulled out of the driveway.

We listened to the music while we drove. He seemed to know where to go without me telling him and was soon pulling into Mrs. Jocelin's driveway.

"Can you pop the trunk so I can get my bike?" I asked him.

James shook his head, "I'll pick you up," he told me.

"James," I said quietly, "you don't need to be my cab. I can get myself home."  
I saw his hands grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white, "How late do you babysit, Lyric?"

"Until six," I answered.

"It's November," he told me, finally looking at me, his golden brown eyes staring at me seriously, "It will be pitch black by then, and you're going to be riding on Route 1. I'm going to pick you up."  
I shook my head and his voice got quiet, "Please, Lyric," he said, "please?"

His eyebrows drew together, and I was a goner, "Are you sure?" I asked.

His face smoothed out almost immediately, "Yes," he answered, "I'll be here at six."

I nodded, "Okay, I'll see you then."

James got out of the car and walked around to my door, opening it for me and helping me out. He handed me my backpack and walked me to the door.

"I'll see you at six," he said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Six," I answered, as the door opened.

"Well, James McInnish!" Mrs. Jocelin's mother, Bonnie said surprised, "Look at you!" She reached out and pulled James inside, who had no choice but to go.

I smiled, biting my lip because Bonnie was a force of nature, if she wanted James inside, then James was going inside.

Mrs. Jocelin's son, Cam, must have just woken from his nap, because he walked into the kitchen still sucking on his pacifier while holding his raggedy seal in one hand.

He smiled when he saw me and took out his pacie, "Hi, Leelee," he said, running over, and dropping his seal.

I dropped to my knees and held my arms open, "Hey Cam," I said, snuggling him tight and breathing in his sweet baby scent.

I stood up, and Cam buried his face in my neck before peeking at James.

"Who's that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at James.

"Uh oh," Bonnie laughed, "Somebody's jealous."

I pulled my head back to look at Cam; he was giving James his death stare, the same one I got when I told him to try a new food.

I giggled, "It's okay Cam Bear," I said, "James was just dropping me off."

"Good," Cam answered and wiggled to get down, running off to his playroom.

James watched him and ran a hand through his hair, and sighed, "I'm not very good with kids," he said apologetically.

I looked at Bonnie, and she nodded at me. _Ha! I can have silent eyeball conversations, too,_ I thought.

"Why don't you stay, James?" I said, "Mrs. J won't mind, and you can practice your babysitting skills."  
"I think that's a lovely idea, Lyric," Bonnie agreed in a saccharine tone, "Don't you, James?"

James added a second hand to his hair, rubbing them back and forth, "I don't know," he answered.

"Come on," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the playroom, "Practice makes perfect."

"Bye dear!" Bonnie called to me.

"Bye Bonnie!" I called back, already down the hall, "See you tomorrow!"

I heard the door close and James and I stood at the entrance of the playroom. I looked over at James, who surveyed the playroom with a look of amazement and fear. I realized that, for the uninitiated, a playroom looked like a warzone, and I giggled to myself, appreciating the perfectly dressed James in this no man's land of lost toys.

I sat, cross legged on the floor next to Cam, and reached up to take James' hand, pulling him down next to me. I leaned forward to grab a box of duplo's and dumped it on the floor.

"Do you really think there need to be more toys out?" James asked, looking around.

I giggled, "There's a method to his madness," I explained, pointing out the ongoing projects, "See? There are his guys, he's probably been dropping them off of his dresser and to land them into the bucket." I pointed again, "See the stuffed animals? The ones in the basket? He's been playing store, and the stuffed animals are part of his inventory."

"So why are we taking out duplo's?" he asked.

"Look," I said, gesturing to Cam who was racing his Disney Cars around, "he's racing, and could use a city for his cars. That's where we come in. So start building," I directed.

James sighed and we worked quietly together. I looked over to see he'd made a four towered and walled structure, complete with bridges and windows.

"Cam!" I said, "look at what James made!"

James made a nervous sound as Cam ran over and jumped into his lap. He pushed a car into James' hand and demanded imperiously, "Drive."

Soon, James was on his hands and knees, racing Mater against Lightning McQueen through the structure he'd built. I had made a series of towers as well, but simple, because I knew that Cam loved to knock things over. I needed to rebuild quickly, and this was the best way.

"Watch out!" Cam cried, and pretended to run into Mater, who then spun out, complete with sound effects, into my tower.

"Leelee," Cam said, "Build again."

We played the game over and over; crash and build, crash and build. Soon, Cam had forgotten his initial dislike of James and was pulling him around his room, pointing out his favorite toys, and piling them into James' lap. I snuck away to start dinner for Cam.

Soon, his special cheesey eggs with ketchup were finished, and I called out to him, "Dinner!"

Cam ran into the kitchen, with James following behind. I noticed that James' hair was still disheveled, and he'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. He looked a lot more relaxed than he had on the drive over.

"Cheesey eggs!" Cam yelled, jumping into his booster seat and grabbing his spoon. I sat down next to him and James pulled up a chair next to me. Cam was still eating when his mother walked in the door.

"Mommy!" Cam said with a mouth full of eggs, "James played!"

Mrs. Jocelin smiled, "I heard that James was babysitting today," she said kindly, "Sorry James," she apologized, "You know how Bonnie can be."  
James laughed.

"How was he Lyric?" Mrs. Jocelin asked, sitting down next to Cam and brushing his hair back from his face while she looked at him adoringly.

"Perfect," I answered honestly, "We had a lot of demolition and racing, and I'm glad to say that the Piston Cup remains with Lightning McQueen."  
"I was Lightning, Mommy," Cam answered, spraying eggs everywhere.

Mrs. Jocelin laughed, getting up and grabbing a paper towel to pick up the eggs.

"Thanks, Lyric," Mrs. Jocelin said, as I got up and grabbed my backpack from next to the door, "Tomorrow?"

"Yup," I replied, "See you."

"Bye Lyric!" Cam called, "Bye James!"

"Bye Cam," James and I said at the same time and left.

James walked to the car, unlocking it and pulling the door open for me. I sat down and sighed, even though Cam was a pretty easy kid to watch, he was still constantly on the move.

James started the car and pulled onto the road, "Why didn't you eat dinner with Cam?" he asked suddenly.

I froze, wondering why he would ask that question and how I was supposed to answer. I didn't eat dinner at the Jocelin's because Mrs. Jocelin never explicitly said I could. I didn't want to assume that I could eat someone's food unless they told me that I could, but for some reason, I didn't feel like I could say that to James. My silence lasted a moment longer than was comfortable and I squirmed awkwardly.

James sighed, and then, to my relief, changed the subject, "Do you have a lot of homework tonight?"  
I shook my head, "No," I answered, "I finished reading with Taylor and I was ahead in Physics. We did our Calculus, so I'm good."

I saw that we were getting closer to my house and started to feel anxiety build in my chest, "Just drop me by the mailbox," I said quietly.

I heard the leather on James' steering wheel squeak, like he was gripping it too tightly.

"I would like to drive you to the door," he said.

"Please don't," I replied quietly, "I…"  
"I just want to make sure you're safe," he said, just as softly.

 _What do I do?_ I didn't want him to see my house, with the hay bales around the foundation and the rusty steps. I didn't want him to see the blankets covering the windows instead of curtains, or the piles of tires that had been left there by previous tenants.

Or worse: my mother and Tim. What if he saw them? What if he heard the terrible things they said to me?

"Please, Lyric," he said, desperation seeping into his voice.

My finger pressed against my lip and I drew in a shakey breath, "Okay," I answered, trying to accept the idea that he would probably never want to see me again after tonight.

"Thank you," he said.


	15. Worse

**Worse**

James pulled his car up to my trailer, one of the two porch lights were on, signifying that my mother was home. Tim's truck was parked behind my mother's car and I closed my eyes. _Crap. Crap. Crap._

The best I could hope for would be to jump out of the car quickly and run inside before anyone noticed James' car.

"Thanks for the ride!" I said quickly and opened my door.

I heard James move just as fast, and when I got out of the car, he was already waiting for me.

 _No._

The door to the trailer opened and Tim sauntered onto the steps, "Who's this?" he asked in his deep, grating voice.

"I'm a friend of Lyric's," James answered, stepping in front of me, "James McInnish."  
Tim's mouth formed a smile, one I knew from experience proceeded some sort of disgusting remark, "James McInnish?" Tim mocked, "Of the Kennebunk McInnishes?"

I forgot that Tim was a towney and knew everyone. If he knew of James this could only get worse. Tim's family used to have money, I heard him telling my mom about it. They'd had a house in Kennebunk, a boat, a fishery, but had lost it all when Tim's father had taken over. By the time Tim was born, his father had declined into alcoholism, and Tim had quickly followed suit. Tim didn't work. He told my mom more than once that the people of the town should be paying _him;_ that his family had provided jobs for people and they owed him. Tim had an inborn sense of entitlement.

James nodded, "Yes."  
Tim strode forward and reached around James quickly, snagging my wrist and pulling me forward. He pulled me up the stairs and pushed me behind him. James took a step forward to follow me.

"You fuckin' her?" Tim asked.

I heard James suck in a breath. I wanted to crawl under the trailer. This was what I wanted to avoid, this ugliness that pervaded my life. I didn't want it to touch what I had with the boys.

James didn't answer, but took another step forward, "Lyric," James said, his voice like ice, "Come here."

I made a move to follow him when I heard the door open behind me, "Tim?" my mom's voice said, "What's going on?"

"Get inside the house, Stacey," Tim roared.

I heard my mom sigh, and the door close again. There would be no help from her, not that there ever was. If anything, my mom was worse with Tim around, more selfish than ever.

Tim reached back, and grabbed my arm, "She ain't goin' nowhere," Tim told James as if daring him to intervene.

"She's coming with me," James answered, and he stepped forward again. Was James actually thinking of challenging Tim? I could feel myself beginning to tremble. James didn't know that Tim had guns, or that he carried one, probably illegally since I'm sure he was a felon, everywhere he went.

"I'm okay, James," I told him, my voice shaking, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, James," Tim answered proudly, as if he'd won something, "She'll see you tomorrow." He pulled me in front of his body and pressed himself against my back. I could feel him press his hips against my bottom, and I wanted to gag. His other hand wrapped around my waist before lowering to my stomach and pressing me back so I could feel him. I cried out and tried to pull away; Tim's laughter echoing in my ears.

The next thing I knew, Tim was crying out and I was pulled forward, into different arms, and the smell of the ocean surrounded me. I couldn't stop my shaking or the tears that were spilling down my face. James was pushing me into the car and tore out of the driveway before I knew what was happening.

"You're not staying there," he told me.

I couldn't answer him. I wrapped my arms around my waist and pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to warm myself from the cold that was seeping deep into my bones.

"You're staying with us, Lyric," he continued, "We'll take care of you. You don't have to go back."  
I started to shudder, my teeth chattering. I could still feel Tim, pressing against me. I wanted to erase the memory of his body against mine, but it was all I could think about.

"Lyric," James was saying to me, as my vision started to tunnel and my shaking got worse, "Lyric!" he called, the worry evident in his voice.

But I couldn't answer, the darkness and ugliness were overwhelming me until it was all I could see and hear and feel, and then I didn't feel anything.


	16. Home

**Home**

Voices filtered to me in the darkness, calling me. I could feel a hand on my face and I flinched away. _Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me._ A sudden, intense overload of sensory information caused me to jerk and cry out. Bright light pulled me out of darkness and I blinked quickly, pulling my head back.

"Lyric," James' voice said to me comfortingly.

In a rush, everything came back: James babysitting with me, insisting on bringing me home, walking me to the door. Tim. I gagged and clapped a hand over my mouth.

"Here," he said quickly, and put a wastebasket under my chin where I promptly threw up the little I had eaten today.

His brown eyes watched me with concern, I felt a hand on my back, rubbing in gentle circles and looking over quickly to see Taylor sitting next to me as well.

"I'm okay," I got out, mortified. I was back in the beautiful room, the one with the French doors, but I couldn't see anything since it was dark out. I was lying on the bed, and it was just as comfortable as I imagined it would be. I threw my legs over the side and made a move to grab the wastebasket.

"I have it," a voice said, and took it away. I looked up and saw Kell. His lips were drawn tight together and he looked pissed.

The wastebasket was whisked away and James pushed at my shoulders, causing me to recline on the bed again.

I stared up at Taylor and James who sat on either side of me before looking back at the comforter. I felt movement by my feet and lifted my eyes to see Kell sitting down as well.

"Lyric," Kell said, his voice soft, "I need to ask you something..."  
I knew what he was going to ask, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the sick feeling that would come when he did.

"Go ahead," I whispered.

"Has Tim hurt you?" he asked. I watched my fingers trace the paisley decoration on the comforter.

I nodded, "But not like you think," I added quietly, "not worse than what you've seen. But he grabs and he pushes."

I heard a choked sound and looked up to see Taylor stand and walk to the wall, pushing both hands against it, and lowering his head.

"She's not going back," he said, whipping around and linking his hands above his head, "Kell."

"We're not ready for that yet," Kell said, confusing me, "it's in review, but I've only had a day to make requests."

"Will your family notice if you're not home?" James asked me.

I shrugged, "It depends," I answered.

"Oh what?" Kell asked.

I wanted to be sick again and swallowed against the bile rising from my empty stomach. I looked desperately at James; I really didn't want to talk about it.

Taylor surprised me by answering for me, "On how drunk they are," he said quietly, "on how much money they need, if there's food or not."

I nodded slowly and he gave me a half smile, moving to the bed and sitting back down. He gripped my calf with his hand, "It's okay Lyric," he said kindly, "our birth families aren't perfect either, despite what you think."

I closed my eyes. He understood, somehow he understood, "All of that," I said.

"Do you ever stay away?" Kell asked.

I hesitated again, but nodded.

"Where do you go?" he asked, "Can you go there again?"  
"She's not going anywhere, Kell," James interjected angrily, his hand tightening on the hand I hadn't realized he was holding.

I cleared my throat, "I have a sleeping bag," I said, "I'll stay in the woods. I try to move around, just in case."  
"In case of what?" Kell asked. I wanted to look at him and risked a glance. His face was a mask, his emotions shuttered.

"In case Tim comes looking for me," I answer.

"Goddammit!" he yelled suddenly, making me jump. He stood up and paced around the room.

"James," he directed.

James stood, "I'm on it," he answered without needing Kell to finish.

I felt movement next to me and looked over to see Taylor sitting, "You'll stay here," he told me.

My eyes widened, "What?" I asked, "I can't do that."

"You will," Kell commanded from across the room, his eyes like ice, "you're not going back there. You'll stay here as long as you need to."

I looked around the room. Stay here? In the beautiful house?

"What about your parents?" I asked, "shouldn't you ask them?"  
"It's James' house," Kell answered, "his parents are traveling and we all live here. Believe me, they don't care."

"Really?" I asked disbelieving.

"Really," Taylor answered for him, "They're used to people coming and going, and they're hardly ever here to notice anyway."

I started to understand that there was more to each of the boys' stories than I realized. It was ironic, really, considering how often people judged me based on first impressions.

"If it's okay with James," I said slowly, "I'll stay."  
"It's okay with James," I heard his voice from the doorway and I looked up to see him smiling at me. His eyes were still hooded and concerned, but he looked relieved as well, and it hit me, the boys were really worried about me. They wanted me to stay, and when I said I would, it made them happy. I would do anything, I realized then, to make them happy.


	17. New Routines

**New Routines**

The boys spent the rest of the evening with me. At times, one or other would leave, but someone was always with me, always holding onto me. It didn't give me time to think, to flashback to Tim, I only had the boys to think about.

Eventually my eyes started to close and I struggled to keep them open. I heard a deep chuckle and saw Kell turning off the bedside lamp.

"Thank you, Kell," I said in a sleepy voice.

"Don't thank me for wanting you safe, Priya," he said quietly and I felt him move closer to the bed. I reached up in the direction I thought his face would be and found his stubbled cheek. I reached up my other hand and pulled his face down to mine, kissing him gently on the lips. His stubble tickled my lip, but his lips were soft. I felt his body jerk in surprise and I pursed my lips one more time, giving him a second kiss before letting go.

"Goodnight, Kell," I whispered.

"Goodnight Lyric," he answered on a sigh before he stood and left. I turned over. I was safe; it was night and I was safe, in a comfortable bed. The boys wouldn't let anything get me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

My bed bounced and my eyes snapped open.

"Crash," it was Taylor, bouncing next to me on the bed, "Wake up and play," he whined.

I giggled and brought the blanket up to my mouth, "Go away," I joked, pretending to whine.

He continued to bounce up and down, making me laugh, "Okay, okay," I said, "I'm getting up."

"Good," he said, stopping immediately. He pointed at a door in the room I hadn't noticed before, "Bathroom's through there. I put some clothes on the vanity."

I looked over at the vanity and saw a pile of folded clothes. I looked at him confused, "James' sister," he explained, "she's away at boarding school, but she won't mind."

I pushed my lip against my teeth with my finger and stared at the clothes nervously, "Crash," Taylor said seriously and I flickered my gaze over to him, "Trust me."

I nodded, and threw back the covers. I was still in my jeans and sweatshirt. I stood up and stretched before looking down at Taylor, who had his head propped on his hand, watching me, while he lounged on the bed.

"I like having you here," he said seriously.

I lowered my hand to his head, and pushing his hair out of his face. His eyes closed and I leaned down, pressing my lips to his head and breathing him in.

"Me too," I answered.

His eyes open and the smile he gave me was blinding, "We're going to be late, Crash," he said in a soft voice, "If you keep looking at me like that."

My finger hovered near my lip, _how was I looking at him?  
_ Taylor jumped up, "Shower. I'll meet you downstairs," he said.

I nodded, still trying to figure out what I'd done that may have made him uncomfortable. He came close to me, and leaned down, kissing my forehead, before leaving.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the door before throwing myself down onto the bed and burying my face into the pillow and squealing.

 _Keep it together, Lyric,_ I thought, _dial back the dork._ But then I squealed again, before jumping up and running into the bathroom to take an uninterrupted shower.

I could smell breakfast as soon as I opened the door from my room. I followed the scent to the kitchen where Kell was drinking tea, Taylor was scarfing something, and James was wrapping food in aluminum foil.

"We don't have time to eat here," James said to me, smiling, "but here's a breakfast sandwich for the road."  
I smiled and reached out. I pulled back the aluminum foil and saw an egg with sausage and melted cheese on an English muffin. I sniffed it and groaned, "It smells so good," I complimented.

Kell laughed, "You're driving with James today," he said, "I've got to make a stop before school and Taylor's truck is full of junk."  
"It's not full of junk," Taylor argued through a mouthful of food, "It's full of _supplies._ "

"Sorry," Kell corrected, "It's full of _supplies_ and there isn't room for you."

"If I had known she'd be staying here," Taylor argued, "I would have made sure there was room for her. There'll be room for you tomorrow, Crash," he assured me.

I nodded, smiling. I really liked this new routine. Kell put his teacup in the sink and handed me my bag, "Ready, Priya?"

I nodded, my backpack felt heavier and I weighed it experimentally. Kell noticed and told me, "It has lunch and a bottle of water inside."

My finger moved to my lip, pushing it up to my teeth and I bit down, "Thank you."  
"Don't thank me," Kell said quietly, pulling my hand away from my mouth and bringing my fingers to his mouth and giving them a light kiss, "It's my pleasure."

I had to get used to the boys' affection, they had given me more caring gestures than I had in a decade. I noticed that James was looking at me a little sadly, but gave me a smile when our eyes met. He was always such a gentleman, holding open doors, making sure I was settled, fed, _safe._ When I got in the car, I waited for him to start driving before turning my body to face him.

"James?" I started.

He glanced at me briefly, "Yes?"

I reached out and touched his arm, one of his hands released the steering wheel and gripped mine. I held it tightly with both of mine. Without thinking, I brought it up to my lips and ran his knuckles back and forth against my lips, "Thank you for saving me last night."

James tore his eyes away from the road to look at me, "I wish I had known about you sooner," he said quietly, as if he was apologizing, and squeezed my hand before lowering it to the armrest between us.

"I wasn't even here until this year," I answered him.

"I know," James replied, "but you've been here almost three months. Three months you've been living with that…" His hand grips me tighter, almost involuntarily.

"Not anymore, though," I said quickly, "you're taking care of me," I said, and pulling my hand away from his started, unwrapping my sandwich, "you're even feeding me."

James gave a small smile, but it didn't touch his eyes, "No more, Lyric," he started, like he was making a promise to himself as well as to me, "you're going to have plenty of food, and you're going to be safe. We're going to take care of you from now on."

I chewed and swallowed, "Only if you let me take care of you, too," I reply.

He looked over at me, surprised and I tapped my finger on my chin, thinking about what I could do, "I'll figure something out."

James laughed, "I have no doubt," he answered, "but I like this new routine," he said, "making you breakfast, driving you to school."

I rested my head against the back of the seat and stared over at him, "Me too," I answered.


	18. Kisses and Goodbyes

**Kisses and Goodbyes**

After we got to school, James walked me through the school, all the while holding my hand. Today he had on faded red pants with a button down shirt, it was preppy and cute. I realized that James was more dressed up than the other kids at school, kind of like an athlete on game day. He carried my bag for me and walked me to my locker. The girls who were usually there first thing in the morning were standing in a tight circle, chatting with each other. Because I had left school early yesterday, I wasn't able to get my bag organized for the next day.

"Excuse me," James said politely to the girl who was leaning against my locker. She looked up at him and flushed before stepping aside. I quickly entered my combination and switched out my books for what I needed. I had specials this morning, art and gym. Having gym in the morning was worse than having it in the afternoon, even though Mrs. Jocelin tried to keep us from getting too sweaty.

"Hi," I heard a soft voice say, and looked over to see one of the girls from the gaggle staring at James. I recognized her from some of my classes. Her name was Melanie and she was smart. And nice. She didn't laugh just because other girls did. She was very pretty, with blonde hair that was lighter than mine and very shiny. She had clear skin and her eyes were wide and blue. She had a bright friendly face and an easy smile. She wore a short green skirt and a cute sweater with birds on it. When she stood next to James, she looked like she belonged there. I looked down at my borrowed clothes, a pair of jeans and a purple cardigan. It was the nicest thing I'd ever worn, but looking at Melanie's easy style and confidence, I felt like I was playing dress-up, wearing a "nice clothes" costume.

"Hi," James answered.

Melanie looked over at me, "Hi Lyric," she said.

"Hello," I answered, my finger moving to my lip.

I finished zipping my bag and made a move to leave, thinking that perhaps James would want to talk to Melanie alone, but he took my hand as I turned. Melanie glanced down at our joined hands then to me, her eyes wide and surprised. James' eyebrows drew together, and I got the feeling that her surprise bothered him. He suddenly took his phone out of his pocket, reading a text message and looked at me, "I've got to go," he said, "I'll walk you to art."

He pulled on my hand without saying anything else to Melanie, ghosting through the halls until we reached the Fine Arts wing. I pointed to my art class and he nodded, "I'm sorry I have to run off," he said.

"It's okay," I answered, biting my lip, "Will I see you later?"  
He bent his knees to look into my eyes, "Yes," he said, "I'm not sure what time, but I'll see you at home for sure."

"At home?" I asked, and then realized what he was saying, "At home," I said on a sigh.

The smile that James gave me filled me with light. I needed him to hold me to earth because I ready to float away. He squeezed my hand and smiled back at me, looking around the hall before bending closer and touching his lips to my cheek, so softly I could have imagined it. He stood back and stared at me for a minute. I heard his phone vibrate and he took it out of his pocket without looking away from my eyes.

"I've gotta go," he said.

I lifted my finger to my lips and he stopped me, bringing it to his mouth, and keeping his eyes on mine, kissed the tip.

"See you at home," I whispered.

He nodded and turned around walking away quickly, then turned around again, walking backwards through the hall and smiling at me. He turned around again, and just before he turned the corner, turned back one more time. I gave him a wave and sighed. I almost couldn't believe it: things were good.


	19. Garret

**Garret**

I walked into my art class, smiling broadly and keeping my face turned to the floor.

"I'd like to know what put that look on your face," a voice said and a hand dropped to my shoulder.

I jumped. I took a step away and met the curious blue eyes staring at mine, before taking a step back and away again.

A man was staring at me, he was vaguely familiar, and he watched me with a half smile, that made me slightly uncomfortable. And I remembered; this was the man from the library.

"Nothing," I answered quietly, the smile slipping from my face as I took yet another step back.

The man took a step forward with each step back I took, until my butt hit a desk, pushing it so it squeaked noisily against the tile.

He leaned his face toward me, "You don't have to run, Lyric," he said, conspiratorially, "I don't bite… much."

I was uncomfortable and looked around for an escape before I heard my teacher, "Garret?" she called. He turned his head to look at her and I sidled away, sitting at a desk quickly and staring at the ground.

I saw his shoes move to the front of my desk, but I refused to look up and a moment later, they moved away.

"Class!" I heard my teacher calling us to attention, and I looked over warily.

The man, Garret, was staring at me and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"This is Garret Sorenson," she said, "he's a local architect, and he's volunteered to lead us through the next few week's lessons on the history of architecture."

 _Wait,_ I thought, _Sorenson?_

He smiled directly at me and I got the feeling that he was here for me. But that was silly, I told myself, It was just a coincidence.

"Garret," my teacher said, "why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"Thanks Greta," he said and stepped forward, "Right, so my name is Garret Sorenson, and I work at Leland, Keller, and Keller in Kennebunk. We design mostly office buildings, but even do things like airport wings and parking garages. I got my degree at Rhode Island School of Design or RISD," he pronounced it like _rizdy._

"I'm from Maine, but worked for a while in Chicago before coming back to Maine and settling with my family close to Kennebunk," he watched me while he talked and I looked around the room, trying to remain polite but detached.

The truth was, he was making me nervous. I didn't like the way he was looking at me. He was handsome; tall with light brown hair. He was slightly lanky, but in the way of a runner, not like he was out of shape. He was wearing fashionable clothes, and his fingers were long and danced around his body while he spoke. He had blue eyes, and I found myself comparing him to the boys, and how different their attention felt. When the guys looked at me, or touched me, it felt like a gift, but Garret's glances made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

Garret was still talking and I realized I hadn't been listening, but staring out the window as I thought about the guys. I caught his eye and saw him frowning slightly. I could feel my cheeks redden, as he watched me, and he smiled at me with something like triumph.

My teacher slid a piece of graph paper in front of me, along with a slide ruler and mechanical pencil and I heard Garret explaining our assignment working on scale. I was pretty good at drawing things to scale. When I was very little, I had seen the movie Top Gun on t.v. and became obsessed with planes. I wasn't interested much in the movie, it was way above my head, but I would watch the planes land on the ship, or watch them take off. I had drawn a few models of various jets, like mechanical specs in my Discreet Math class, and my math teacher had shared them with the art teacher, who was his wife.

I got to work, drawing the art room to scale, and tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach. _Just a coincidence,_ I told myself, _just a coincidence._

"This is probably too easy for you," I heard Garret say.

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't want to say it was easy and sound full of myself, but I didn't want to say it wasn't and have him offer to help me.

I positioned the ruler and began drawing a line.

"Here," he said, and gripped my hand holding the ruler, repositioning it.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he gripped it harder, squeezing slightly before letting go. It was like he was letting me know that _he_ would decide when to stop touching me; that I had no control.

He knelt next to me, and I looked over despite myself, "Do you know we're cousins?" he asked.

I shook my head.

He kept watching me, waiting for me to speak, "Your mother didn't tell you?" he said, "I called there the other night, but she said you were out. I was looking for a sitter, but also to connect. Your dad was my first cousin, so in truth, we're second cousins."

I had never met my dad. He was just a name on my birth certificate, nothing more.

"You know, Lyric," he said, putting his palm over my drawing so I was forced to look at him, "It's polite to talk to someone who is speaking to you."

I heard a giggle next to me, and looked over to the desk next to mine. I met the gaze of a curious girl who quickly looked down at her paper.

"Am I right?" Garret asked her genially, and she looked over at him, smiling, "Yes," she answered, staring right at me.

"Sorry," I whispered, glancing at him quickly and then away.

"That's okay, Lyric," he said, standing up and putting his hand on my head. He ran it down my head before he gripped my neck and squeezed. He walked away to another student while I was left staring at my paper.

My hand holding the pencil trembled, and I put it down, clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to calm myself down. I stretched my neck from side to side, trying to make the feeling of his hand disappear, but it was like my skin was clay and the imprint of his hand remained pressed into me.

Garret walked around the class, checking in briefly with students. I vigilantly watched his progression through the class, dreading each step that brought him closer to me. My stomach knotted with anxiety until I could barely swallow. He was two desks away from me, and then one. He looked up at me and smiled, winking.

I raised my hand quickly and he took a step toward me, thinking I was seeking his attention, "Mrs. Brawn?" I asked the teacher. She looked up from her desk with a questioning look, "I need to be excused for a moment."

She nodded once and I stood up, making sure to keep my eyes averted from Garret, though I could feel him staring at me. I walked to the door and opened and closed it quickly. I stood to the side, taking a moment to calm my shaking body and take deep breaths.

 _How long was left?_ I wondered.

I walked down the hall to another classroom, peeking through the door at the clock.

 _Five minutes,_ I saw.

I walked quickly to the restrooms on the floor, and turned on the cold water, wetting a paper towel and bringing it to my head, letting it rest against my overheated skin. I wanted the boys. It was crazy how quickly I'd come to depend on them, on how safe they made me feel.

I stared at myself in the mirror, waiting, counting to myself in my head. When I thought five minutes was nearly over, I went back to the classroom, waiting for the bell to ring before going inside. Kids were gathering up their bags and books and I grabbed mine, not bothering to put it in my bag, just collecting an armload and making a beeline for the door.

"Lyric!" I heard Garret call, "Wait!"

I pushed between kids, but then Mrs. Brawn added her voice, "Lyric?" she called.

I stopped, and turned around. Garret was watching me with a small frown, and Mrs. Brawn was regarding me curiously as well, "Are you alright Lyric?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," I answered, "I have to run to my locker again. It's in the other wing."

Mrs. Brawn didn't seem to believe my excuse and neither did Garret. I stood there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting.

"Lyric?" I heard a musical voice ask.

 _Oh thank God._ I felt my entire body relax, _safe. Safe. Safe._

Kell stepped into the classroom, "We're going to be late," he said, his voice deep with authority.

I looked over at him, trying to make my legs move. I saw his eyes widen a fraction before he schooled his features. He walked over to me, and took the mess of papers and books I had gathered untidily in my arms. He shifted them under one arm and put his arm around me with the other, inserting his body between the teacher, Garret, and me.

"Lyric," Garret said, stepping forward and touching my arm.

My eyes shot to Kell without thought, and he pulled me away. Garret kept his hand on my arm, stepping with us. Kell wasn't looking at me anymore; he had trained his glare on Garret. Mrs. Brawn looked at Garret's hand on my arm and suddenly seemed concerned, "Mr. Sorenson," she asked, "is there a problem?"

It seemed to shake Garret out of his stand-off with Kell. He squeezed my arm once and stepped back, "Not at all," he replied easily, still staring at Kell, "just wanted to check in with my cousin before she headed off to class."

"Oh," Mrs. Brawn looked relieved, "I'd forgotten you'd mentioned you were family. Well, I'm sure we can give you a minute with Lyric," she said, looking pointedly at Kell.

"I'm sorry," Kell said politely, though clearly not at all sorry, "we don't have time today. Let's go Lyric," he said finally, and steered me out of the classroom.

I could feel my body trembling, the stress of the situation leaving me in a rush and leaving me shaken and scared. I looked up at Kell, his jaw was set and I could see a muscle moving in his cheek.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, tripping as we walked.

He steadied me with a hand, and looked down at me, his eyes sparking dangerously, "Are you seriously asking me if I'm okay, after that…" he paused and took a deep breath, running his fingers through his curls. He looked around the hall, and pulled me between two sets of lockers and a darkened classroom. My finger hovered near my lips as I watched him. His hands pressed against my shoulders and I took a step back, pressing into the cinderblocks behind me.

"I am mad," he said, his voice low, "I saw him touch you and I wanted to rip his arm off. It took everything I had not to lay him out."

My bag was propped on my elbow, and I let it fall to the ground, reaching up both hands to grip his forearms.

"I needed you," I said honestly, "and you were there. Just…" I searched my brain for a way to explain it to Kell, "like a wish granted."

His face softened, his eyes losing their edge and his mouth curving upward slightly, "Priya…" he breathed, leaning forward.

The second warning bell rang, making us both jump. Kell took a step back, sighing heavily before reaching down for my bag, "Gym, correct?" he asked, stepping back into the hallway.

I nodded. He held out his hand and I took it. As we entered the crowded hallway, I was pushed into him, and reached across my body to hold his elbow with my other hand. I felt a tingling on the back of my neck, but I ignored it. I was safe. With Kell, I knew it absolutely, I was safe.


	20. Shadows

**Shadows**

Taylor and Kell ran a two man defense the rest of the day; someone was always walking to me to class, shouldering other students out of my way. When we were in class, they sat next to me, their bodies physical barriers between me and the world. Other times, they held my bag while simultaneously holding open doors. After a lifetime of watching out for myself, their attention was welcome. I honestly didn't know how either of them got any of their own work done, they seemed so focused on me.

Taylor had met Kell and me at the door of the lunch room, and instead of following us inside he led us to his truck. It was a chilly day but sunny. Taylor lowered the tailgate and put a mover's pad on the bed of his truck. Kell jumped up first and with Taylor's hands on my hips, they'd both managed to get me up.

"Thanks," I said, "I thought I was going to have to climb up the tire."

Taylor chuckled and settled himself next to me. I reached into my backpack to get my sandwich and Kell and Taylor took out theirs. Kell watched me closely, chewing opened a water bottle and handed it to me.

I swallowed and gave him a close mouthed smile before taking a long drink, "Thanks Taylor," I said, after a moment.

"Lyric," Kell said as I lowered the bottle, "Who was that man?"

The hand holding the cap of the bottle shook, and I struggled to put it back on the water. Taylor covered my hand with his, taking it into his strong fingers and capping it for me, "It's okay," he whispered.

I was silent as I tried to hold on to the threads of my thoughts.

"I was at the library," I said to Kell, my finger pushing up to my lip. I bit down nervously, but Kell gave me an encouraging nod. I lowered my hands to my lap and clasped them together. A strong brown hand took one of my hands and gently separated it from the other, and then another hand, calloused and slightly paler, took the other. Neither Taylor nor Kell looked at me, instead they both held my hand, anchoring me.

"I was reading," I continued, watching our hands, "and he came over to talk to me; he asked me about my book. Where I was studying, if I was college. I didn't really talk to him," I added, "he made me uncomfortable, but he was there with his daughter."

Taylor squeezed my hand and I looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, "He's a dad," I explained, "why would a dad be interested in a high school girl?"

"Why, indeed," Kell added under his breath, looking pointedly at Taylor. I shivered at his words, remembering my discomfort.

"Ruby, the librarian, told him my name, for babysitting. I hadn't seen or heard from him, but it was only a few days ago. He said he called my house. That my dad was his cousin. His name is Garret Sorenson," I trailed off, moving my feet back and forth, kicking the shadows on the pavement.

"So why was he in your class?" Taylor asked, nudging me with his shoulder.

I opened my mouth to answer, before Taylor interrupted me, "Keefe," he said, nodding his head. I looked up quickly and saw Keefe standing nearby.

"Taylor," Keefe replied, giving him a chin tilt as acknowledgment.

Taylor took a sip of his water, tilting his head back to the sun, "What can I do for you?" he asked in a lazy voice, his accent sounding stronger. He let go of my hand and capped his bottle, but Kell held onto me, his fingers tight.

I looked down at my now free hand and turned it, cupping my knee.

"You comin' to practice today?" Keefe asked.

"If there's a practice, then I reckon I'll be there," Taylor said, pushing his hair out of his face and giving Keefe a smile that screamed trouble.

Keefe folded his arms across his chest, "We've got a game, Friday, Tay, it's the playoffs."

"Uh huh," Taylor replied, nodding. His posture affected calm, but he looked tense to me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him, but he'd let go of my hand and I didn't know why.

I gently slid my leg a little closer to his until I could touch his knee. I pressed against him quickly. I felt him press back, and then he was standing up and walking to Keefe, "If I say I'll be there, I'll be there," he said.

He turned around to face the truck and reached out his hands to me. I took both of them and hopped off. Kell slid down a moment later, standing stiffly at Taylor's side.

Keefe looked at me briefly, his nose and lip curling as he studied me. My finger went up to my lip.

"Good," Keefe said, looking me up and down, "See you there."  
"Mmhm," Taylor made a noise of agreement, then took a step in front of me. I realized that Kell had moved slightly in front of me as well, and I was shielded completely from Keefe as he sauntered away.

Kell and Taylor watched him walk away and into the building. I saw them exchange glances and look down at me.

"Come on, Crash," Taylor said, "We need to get to Humanities."

Taylor was quiet on our walk.

Before Kell left us, he squeezed my hand, "We'll talk about the man in your art class later," he said, "Stay with Taylor until I get you."

I nodded. He gave a nod to Taylor and left. Taylor led me to our desks, ignoring Keefe. I tried to focus on class, and did pretty well, until class was interrupted by a messenger from the front office. Mrs. Jocelin had sent me a note, telling me that she wouldn't need me in the afternoon because Cam was sick. While I could have used the money, I couldn't help feeling glad for some free time. I was also a little excited, thinking about returning home with the guys.

The day dragged on. James never made it back to school that I could tell, and I looked for him between every class. At the end of the day, Kell and I walked out to the soccer fields to watch Taylor practice, and I asked him about James.

"Is he okay?" I asked after he told me he hadn't heard from James.

Kell nodded, looking out at the field, "I would hear if he wasn't."  
"What did he have to do?" I asked, "Is his family okay?"

Kell stopped and looked out at the field, "It's complicated," he said.

I pushed my finger against my lip, worried for him, "Can we go to him?" I asked, hoping he would take me.

Kell looked down and saw my worried face, he turned to face me and took my hands in his, "He's okay, Priya," he assured me, "I promise you. We can talk about it when we get home tonight."

I nodded, biting my lip. That answer would have to do for now, it was just, "I hate to think he's alone," I said.

Kell's face softened. A beam of sunlight fell across him, lighting up his dark hair and making it shine, each curl like obsidian. He had shaved this morning, but his jaw was already showing the shadow of scruff. I had to stop myself from reaching up to feel his cheek.

"It is strange," Kell told me, "to think that I did not know you existed before this week."

I knew what he meant; I couldn't imagine having to go back to a world without these boys. Just thinking about it made me feel anxious and I pulled my hand away from his, wrapping it around my throat where it suddenly felt tighter.

"We aren't going anywhere, Priya," Kell told me quietly, "you are family now."

I wanted to say something, but I couldn't speak past the lump, so I just nodded, blinking rapidly. Kell began walking again, holding my hand and swinging our arms. The sun was behind us, casting our shadows on the ground in front of us. I stepped to the side, placing a foot on Kell's shadow, "Sorry," I said softly, "didn't see you there."

I felt, rather than heard Kell's chuckle and soon his booted foot was stepping on my shadow, "My apologies, Miss," he said.

I took little baby steps, pretending to step on each of his fingers, "I can't stop stepping on your fingers," I giggled, each word punctuated by a step.

One of his hands lifted up, I saw it above my head and he pretended to land it on me, "Bonk!" he said.

I burst out laughing. Kell and the word "bonk" just didn't go together, he seemed too cool, too grown-up, to engage in physical comedy. I nudged him with my shoulder, watching his shadow as he pretended to falter and stumble.

"How did you meet Taylor and James?" I asked him, "You all live together, don't you?"

Kell nodded, "We do," he said, "we met at school."

"Here? In Maine?" I asked, "Is your family here?" I looked over at him, it was like my question had sucked the fun out of him.

"I don't have any family except for Taylor and James," he said, but then his eyes creased and he looked down at me, "and you."

I frowned, looking at the ground, torn between guilt that he was alone, and gratitude that he thought of me as family. Though to tell the truth, I don't even know what a family was like; mine certainly wasn't a model I'd want to follow.

"But," I started, my mind beginning to whir.

Kell turned to face me, "My family is dead. I have one sister, still in England, but she wants nothing to do with me. I met Taylor and James at a boarding school where I was sent. They are my brothers for intents and purposes. You could say we adopted each other."

He told the story quickly, without emotion, but I could sense a volcano of pain just beneath the surface. I tried to tamp down the guilt that was threatening to overwhelm me for making him relive something that he obviously wanted to forget.

"I'm sorry," I explained, "I just wanted to know more about you."

Kell sighed, sitting on a bench and looking at me to join him. I perched on the very edge. Kell slid down, closer to me. I stared at the ground, watching our shadows again. Kell slide closer and closer, until our shadows merged into one big blob.

"I want you to know about me, Priya," he said, his hand next to mine where it gripped the bench. His pinky moved over to wrap around mine, "It's just hard to talk about sometimes."

I leaned my head against his leather clad arm, the material warmed by the sun. I turned my face into him, "Thank you for telling me," I said.

His cheek touched my head,and his hand moved to completely cover mine, "You're welcome," he answered, "Now, let's watch Taylor destroy Keefe on the soccer field."  
I nodded, forcing a smile to my face.


	21. Soccer Player

**Soccer Player**

Taylor was a really good soccer player. I expected him to play offense, but he didn't. He was sweeper, the last defender between the other team's offense and the goalkeeper. It was a position that fit Taylor, he was a protector, at least, he had been for me. There was something about watching him stop potential goals that tightened my stomach and filled me with nervous energy. He was utterly focused, watching passes and keeping track of the ball. He was thoughtful and strategic, which surprised me. He seemed like he would be more spontaneous. But when I thought back on the boys, it was Kell who seemed to act fast, to let his emotions guide his actions, and it was Taylor who waited for his moment.

The team was scrimmaging. Keefe was striker, and the ball consistently moved up to him so he could score against the other team. I hated to admit it, but Keefe was good. The ball was kicked back to Taylor so he could move it up the field. I watched transfixed, even forgetting momentarily that Kell was next to me. I could see a winger was free way on the right, while the other side was blocking Keefe in. But Taylor didn't pass it to him. He adjusted his position, drew his foot back and sent the ball straight up the middle. Keefe just had time to turn his head, taking note of the other players, when the ball nailed him in the temple. His head snapped back. I gasped, and saw Kell wince next to me before his half smile appeared, along with his dimple. My hand covered my mouth and I stared worriedly at Taylor.

"He won't get in trouble, will he?" I asked under my breath.

"Keefe!" I heard the coach yell, "It's not a goddamn picnic, get your head up and pay attention to where the ball's going!"

"No," Kell said to me, the dimple deepening, "I don't think he will."

I pulled my hand from my mouth and clenched it tightly with my other one.

I didn't take my eyes away from Taylor, thinking that as long as I watched him, I could somehow protect him as well. He caught me watching and winked at me, and I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped my lips.

"Taylor!" Keefe hissed as they jogged in for a water break. I stood up, watching the boys closely. I narrowed my eyes at Keefe, _don't you come close to him,_ I thought, surprising myself.

"You better watch yourself," he finished.

Taylor grabbed a water bottle. He didn't look at Keefe, instead holding my gaze, "I think that's my line, man," he said carelessly, tossing his bottle back on the ground and running back to the field.

Keefe turned away, and I look down quickly. When I flicked my eyes up again, I see him still staring at me, a look of hate curling his lips before his image is obscured completely by Kell's back.

"Time to go, Priya," Kell said, grasping my hand lightly and leading me to the parking lot, "We're going to pick up dinner and meet James and Tay at home."

I nodded, mentally calculating how much money I had in my backpack and wondering where we could go, _dollar menu at McDonald's, yes, pizza, no._

I followed Kell to his bike, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way we could pick up pizza while he was on a motorcycle.

He took my backpack and stuffed it in the saddlebag, then pulled out a helmet. This one was different from the one I wore yesterday, it was smaller, and all black except for a silver heart on the back.

"Let's see if this one fits," Kell said, waiting for me to tie my hair back before gently easing the helmet on my head. He let me fasten the chin strap before grabbing his own helmet and putting it on his head. He took his leather coat off again and put it on me, zipping it up to my neck.

He flipped his visor up so he could see me. I couldn't see his mouth, but his eyes crinkled at the sides, "Perfect fit," he said, "I knew it was meant for you."  
I swallowed, "You bought this for me?" I asked.

"You can't ride the bike without a helmet," he said, getting on and starting it. He looked over his shoulder at me, waiting for me to climb on.

I didn't hesitate, wrapping my arms around his waist and squeezing him briefly in thanks. His hand gripped one of mine and squeezed in response. I bit my lip under the helmet, and we roared off.


	22. James's Point of View

**James POV**

 _Lyric's trailer was disgusting. I set up the last of the cameras and stepped over stains and mashed in, I don't know what._

 _Her little room was an oasis in a dump. The floors were as clean as she could make them, the bed, though neat, looked like it hadn't been slept in. I pushed my hand down on the comforter and a puff of dust erupted into the air. I closed my eyes as a wave of anger descended on me. It'd been at least a week since she'd slept here; which that meant she was sleeping in the woods, on the ground. The drawers to her bureau were opened, the clothes pushed aside like someone had rifled through them. A few coins were visible on the bottom of the drawers, and I realized her mother or that dirtbag, Tim, had taken whatever money Lyric had kept in there._

 _I heard the roar of an engine and stopped, waiting to see if it was coming down the driveway to continuing along the main road. It kept going._

 _I went into Lyric's mother's room. It was filthy. Empty bottles littered the floor, and it looked like the sheets hadn't been washed, in… ever. I opened the closet, looking along the tops of shelves. A shoebox on the top caught my attention, especially as it had a flannel shirt half covering it, like someone had tried to wrap the shirt around it. I pulled it down, and squatted on the floor, before taking off the top._

 _I wasn't surprised by what I found._

 _Porn mags, an empty bag with a few buds in it, a pipe. I snapped on a rubber glove and took out the items. I sucked in a breath when I saw what was underneath. At first, it looked like folded computer paper, but when I opened it, I had to swallow against the bile that rose up in my throat. Pictures of girls, not much older than Lyric, in various states of undress. It was clear that some of them didn't the pictures had been taken, it looked like some were shot through windows or doorways, but other ones…_

 _The girls had empty eyes, emotionless faces. I flipped through the papers faster and faster, dread rising up in my chest._

 _There they were._

 _I wanted to throw up._

 _It was Lyric._

 _Asleep in bed, one hand curled on her pillow._

 _Another picture. This one with a hand in the frame, pulling away the comforter._

 _And a final one, Lyric asleep in a sleeping bag, surrounded by branches and trees._

 _My heart broke when I thought of our girl, because she was now, she was ours. Our family. Ours to protect._

 _She had thought she was safe in the woods, that they hadn't known she was gone. But they knew. Because that hand on the comforter? That wasn't a man's hand._

 _I pulled my phone out and rang our adviser at the Academy, "Dr. Roberts?" I said when he answered the phone, "This is James McInnish. Where are we in the adoption process? We need to extract our bird."_

 **James McInnish's Report**

 **Subject:** Lyric Sorenson

 **Mother** : Stacey Manning

 **Father** : Kevin Sorenson

 **Present Family Situation** : Neglect, Possible abuse, At-Risk for assault.

 **Subjective Assessment:** Lyric is supporting both her mother and herself using babysitting money. She is malnourished, and at risk for exposure as she is sleeping in woods. Mother and mother's boyfriend, Tim Bush, in possession of child pornography. See attached.

 **Objective Assessment** : Past reports by school made to Child Protective Services- reports investigated, never substantiated. Review of school reports show above average IQ, grade point average 3.95, on track for early graduation, as well as completion of college credits. See attached.

 **Proposal:** Adoption into McInnish team. Entrance into Academy if amenable.

 **Cost/Risk** : Lyric is underage; mother must sign away rights or Lyric could be classified runaway or unmanageable delinquent. Team will incur all costs and debts.


	23. Love and Doubts

**Love and Doubts**

I spent seven blissful days with the guys. I didn't have to worry about anything. Someone would bring me to babysit and pick me up. Cam was in heaven, with a different "big" boy to play with every day. The guys committed to imaginary play, even if they always had to be the bad guy, and I always had to be rescued, or I was relegated to boring characters like "ice cream seller" or some version of fist shaker with the line, "get back here with my…" I was definitely second best, but that was okay. I had come to prefer the boys above everyone else, too.

I didn't understand why the boys were taking care of me, and when I asked, they would give me a variety of answers, but it always came down to family. I was their family. Family was a choice. Family came first.

And these weren't just words. Every action they took showed me how much they cared. I didn't pay for anything, and when I balked, asking to contribute something, they showed me how I was contributing, even though it wasn't monetarily.

So I cooked my heart out, and when the boys disappeared from class, I took notes. James missed two days of classes earlier in the week, and he asked me to teach him the concepts he'd missed in calculus. I felt like I was doing something, making a difference. Granted, it was on a really small scale, I wasn't saving the world, but I was making life easier for the guys, and that felt good.

Mr. Sorenson wasn't at either of my art classes that week, so I stopped feeling sick before entering art. _It must have been a fluke_ , I told myself, relaxing for the first time in months. I slept through the night, ate vegetables and fruits, had warm showers.

Like I said, bliss.

I wanted to enjoy every moment, but in the back of my mind came the worrying, nagging idea: this was too good to last.

I woke up Sunday morning when my entire bed bounced. It was Taylor. I knew it without opening my eyes. He was my alarm clock and my favorite way to wake up.

"Good morning, Texas," I said smiling sleepily.

"Mornin' Sunshine Bluebell Crash McCrasherton," he drawled, curling up behind me and pulling me into the cradle of his arms.

That was the other thing with the boys. They were always touching me; hugging me, pushing my hair out of my face, or taking my hand in theirs. I snuggled backward into him, pushing my butt until I could feel his thighs against me.

He pulled in a breath and tensed for a moment before relaxing and smoothing my hair out of my face.

"You ready to get a move on?" he whispered in my ear. It was like I could see the words curl out of his mouth and wrap around my cheek.

I felt myself heat, "Mmmhmm," I answered, "Will there be breakfast?"

Taylor's nose ran up and down the cord in my neck, "Yes ma'am," he said, "but you gotta get your ass in the seat in five minutes."

I spun fast, pushing him with one hand onto his back and kissing him fast on the cheek, "Outta my way, Texas," I said, scampering over him and running into the bathroom.

I washed my face fast, and brushed my teeth. Taylor was standing with his arms crossed, watching me when I ran out of the bathroom.

"Out!" I called to him, running into the closet, "You warm up the car so my butt doesn't freeze on those seats."

I heard him chuckle deeply, and the door closed behind him. I giggled, smiling, and looking at the clothes in my closet. I loved those boys.

 _Oh no._

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I felt everything in me freeze. _Oh no oh no oh no._ I couldn't love them. They were my family now. I would mess everything up if I loved them.

But I did. I loved Kell and his passion and moodiness. I loved James's quiet dedication and little boy silliness, and I loved Taylor. I loved his protectiveness, the jokes he played on me, and the way he helped me do my homework every night he was home.

 _I was in love with the boys._

I took a deep breath. I would do anything to stay with them, anything to make them happy; I knew that. They were my home and family. I would be the best sister they ever had, the best friend they ever had. Whatever they needed, I would figure out a way to do it, and whoever they needed me to be, I'd figure out a way to be that.

"Priya?" Kell's cool voice surprised me, "Are you alright?"

"Sorry!" I called out, and blindly grabbed a pair of jeans and a thick sweater before running out of the closet.

"I got distracted," I said by way of excuse as I walked out of my room.

Kell smiled at me, "That's fine," he said, reaching for my hand, "Taylor was supposed to give you half an hour, not five minutes."

I laughed, throwing my head back and Kell's hand squeezed mine.

"I love to hear you laugh," he said to me, almost too quietly for me to hear.

"I love having a reason to laugh," I answered, just as quietly. He stopped me on the stairs when I would have gone ahead of him. I turned back with a questioning look, his dark eyes boring into mine.

"We want you to be happy," he said to me seriously.

 _Oh my poor sensitive Kell._

He seemed to hold himself responsible for my crappy life. I tried not to talk about it, but every once in a while, I would do something thoughtlessly, and it was as if the boys could see my purpose behind it.

Last night, we had eaten out, and I had leftover salad. I asked for a to-go box, and when we got home, I started to take it into my room, forgetting I didn't need to hide or horde food. It was just instinct, but the look Kell had given me, somewhere between heartbroken and rage, showed me he understood.

I smiled at him brightly, "I am happy Kell," I told him, and gave him a little tug.

We walked out the front door into a beautiful sunny day. Every once in a while, New England would tease us with beautiful days in the middle of cold dreariness. It was cool out, but the sky was bright blue, and the trees branches stood prettily against it.

"Oh!" I cried out, "It's a pilgrim day!"

James came around the front of his car, opening the passenger side door for me, "A pilgrim day?" he asked.

I sid inside and waited for the boys to climb in as well. James's car had heated seats, and I wiggled my butt happily against the warmth.

I heard two deep chuckles from the back, and turned around to flash Taylor and Kell a smile.

"What's a pilgrim day?" James asked as he sat in the driver's seat.

"It's one of those days," I explained, "Where you could look at the top of trees against the sky, and feel the cool air, and you can transport yourself back in time. Sometimes, I'll catch the pitch of a roof, or a door, and it's like a flash. You can see what it would the land would look like three hundred years ago."

I started to blush as I explained it. It was a silly thing I used to do as a child; pretend I was in other time periods. After I had become obsessed with medieval times, I spent hours in the woods, staring up at the top of pine trees and whistling to my imaginary falcon. Other times, I would squint at poplar trees and pretend I was in Ancient Rome. It was a way to escape whatever was happening around me.

The boys were quiet and I hunched down in my seat, embarrassed.

"That reminds me," James said suddenly, "What are we making for Thanksgiving?"

And with that, the topic moved on. I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew without looking that it was Kell. I squeezed his hand to reassure him.

"Turkey?" I asked, stating the obvious.

"What about curry?" Kell suggested.

Taylor started to laugh, "We'll do a real Indian Thanksgiving."

I heard an oof from the backseat, "Boys," I said warningly, "Don't make us stop this car."

James laughed, reaching over and taking my hand, "What do you want to do, Lyric?" he asked.

I thought about it. For some reason, the idea of doing a traditional Thanksgiving, with a roast turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and all that, didn't sound appealing. It would just remind the boys that I had never had one before.

"I like Taylor's idea. Let's do Indian food," I replied.

"Sounds good," James answered, "We'll sit down tonight and start a menu."

I smiled, my finger coming up to my lip. We would make our own traditions.

I watched the scenery pass, and James pulled into a bakery, "I'll run in," he told us before asking, "what do you want?"

"Kell wants tea, and a croissant, Taylor wants a breakfast sandwich, with sausage _and_ bacon, and black coffee, and I want a coffee with lots of cream and sugar and a muffin," I answered before the boys.

James watched me wide eyes.

"What?" I asked cheekily, "I listen. I observe."

James shook his head, and got out of the car.

"So spill," I said turning around, "Where are we going?"

Taylor smiled at me, pulling his hair back from his face, "We're going to our old school," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, interested and excited, "Where?"

"It's in Portland," Taylor said, "It's the boarding school where we spent the last five years."

"Is it Homecoming?" I asked, "Or a reunion?"

Taylor shook his head, "No," he answered, "It's more of an Open House for potential students. They have accelerated academic programs," he said.

I was confused, "Do you sit on a student panel?" I asked, "So new students can ask you questions?"

I tried to figure out why we would be going.

"No, Priya," Kell said, "We wanted to show you the school. We thought that you may be interested in going there."

I felt my heart sink. _Oh._

Doubts started flooding me: _I was too much work, I took too much of their time, I intruded into their lives, I was expensive, they didn't want me living with them anymore…_ Each doubt led to another doubt and another doubt.

But they had done so much for me. If they wanted me to go to this school, I would go, and I would go smiling, never letting them know how much it hurt me to be away from them. I loved them, and so I began running the mantra inside my brain, _be what they need, do what they need you to do._

* * *

 ** _Thank you so much for reading. Please review and comment! ~ Ripley_**


	24. Meeting the Academy

**Meeting the Academy**

The ride was pretty quiet. I watched the cars pass us on the highway. I handed James change for the tolls when we exited, but I was absorbed in my thoughts. I needed to act really happy about this place, no matter what it looked like, or how much it broke my heart.

"What's the name of the school?" I asked, trying to sound enthused, but falling flat. _Do better, Lyric._

"It's just called The Academy," James explained, "It's not advertised, and it is pretty exclusive. They have numerous donors, most of whom what to remain anonymous, so they haven't named the school after any one person."

"It has a number of satellite sites," Taylor added slowly, "so it doesn't make sense to name it after one place, either."

"Oh," I said, trying to project interest.

"So did you guys start at the Academy in Texas and England?" I asked Taylor and Kell.

Taylor hesitated, "Sort of," he drawled.

"No," Kell answered, "I started here."

I waited, but neither of them elaborated further. _Argh. Boys!_

I didn't press, as much as I wanted to, as much as I wanted to tell them that it wasn't fair, that they knew everything about me, and I didn't really know anything about them.

We got off the highway heading into Portland.

"Where are we?" I asked, not recognizing the cobblestone streets and older buildings.

"Old Port," James answered as we passed a number of boutiques and restaurants.

"Oh," I answered again. _Think of something better to say, Lyric._

 _"_ It's beautiful," I added, "I've never been to this part of Portland before." It screamed money, and I never had any. There would have been no reason for me to come here.

I turned around and looked at the boys in the backseat. When Taylor met my eyes, he didn't smile, but watched me closely. He ran his hands back and forth through his hair, and opened his mouth like he was going to say something.

I turned around quickly before he could. I needed to figure out a way to look them in the eye and tell them I was okay. This false brightness wasn't working.

"I'm really interested in seeing where you three met," I said. There, that was honest.

James nodded, and pulled into an underground parking garage. We all got out of the car, stretching. It wasn't long from Kennebunk to Portland, but the tension had ratcheted up the last five miles. I lifted my hands over my head and stretched from side to side.

I looked at the boys, who were communicating wordlessly back and forth. I saw a muscle tick in Kell's cheek, and James's eyebrows were drawn together. Taylor hands were busy messing up his hair. They were little balls of stress.

"Hey," I said, clapping my hands to get their attention, "I'm nervous about seeing this school, but I'll be okay."

 _If it makes you happy_ I added in my head.

It seemed to do the trick. My words rang true to them, and they each gave me their small special smiles. I gathered them up like flowers to tuck away in my heart, and smiled back at them.

"Show me," I said.

I was surprised when James reached out for me. I put my hand in his and he pulled me into his arms. He hugged me tightly. I felt his lips on my hair and then he lightly set me away from him, before leading all of us to an elevator.

He took a key from his pocket and put it in a lock on the keypad, lighting up the number indicating the top floor.

"The penthouse," I joked, trying to keep the mood light.

James cleared his throat, "So, like I said," he redirected, "this is kind of a different school. This is one place where we meet, but classes take place everywhere. There is no one Academy building."

"Okay," I said, ready to ask more questions when the doors opened.

Light flooded the elevator, and gleamed off of shiny wood floors. I followed the guys, stepping out of the elevator and looking around.

Floor to ceiling windows let in the bright November sun. It looked more like a business office than a school, with a front desk and lines of computers. I saw people my age and older milling about, talking to each other, working on the computers, or reading books. There were other offices or classrooms in all directions, with the center of the floor being the open work area.

I was shocked when a boy ran past us, hitting the button to the elevator and holding it for four more boys. They couldn't have been more than twelve.

"James," a voice said, getting my attention.

I looked over to see a lovely young woman walking toward us. She had beautiful auburn hair pulled back into a perfect ponytail. She wore a pleated skirt and a cardigan. Her eyes were brown and sparkled at us as she approached with her hand out.

"Constance," James greeted, shaking her hand and leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

 _Don't be jealous,_ I lectured.

She knew each guy, and shook their hands, greeting them warmly and offering her cheek for a kiss. Each kiss felt like a nail into my heart, though I could tell it wasn't anything more than being friendly.

"This is Lyric, Constance," James introduced.

Constance smiled at me widely, "Hello Lyric," she said kindly, taking my hand and covering it with her other hand, "It is so nice to finally meet you. The team has told me so much about you."

I must have looked confused for a moment because she laughed, "I mean the boys. When people work together as closely as these guys do, we call them teams."

I nodded as if I understood.

"Why don't you come with me, Lyric," she said, still holding onto my hand, "the guys have some things to do while they're here and we can get to know each other better."

My stomach clenched. I didn't want to leave them.

I took a deep breath, "Alright," I said quietly, my finger coming up to my lip, pushing it to my teeth.

I looked back at the guys, who watched me seriously as I followed Constance, but didn't make a move to follow.

"So how much did the team tell you about the Academy?" she asked me. I noticed that she had a bit of an accent, not unlike Taylor.

"I didn't learn of it until today," I answered, "Did you meet Taylor in Texas?" I asked her.

She looked back at me, surprised, "Yes," she said, "I was one of his instructors when he first began with us, but I've been in New England for a while now. I'm surprised you noticed my accent."

"Sorry," I said, unsure of whether I offended her or not. She held the door open for me, nodding at me to go in.

Two other people who were sitting at a round table stood as I walked in. The first was a girl a little younger than me, maybe fourteen or so, and the second was a man, in his mid-twenties, dressed casually in a button-down shirt and khaki pants.

"This is Vivi," Constance told me, "and this is Vaughn."

I shook both their hands and sat at the table when Vaughn held a chair out for me. I noticed that Vaughn and Vivi had the same oval face and dark blonde hair, they were too close in age to be father and daughter, but I assumed they had to be related somehow.

"I like your sweater," Vivi told me, reaching out a hand and running her fingers over my sleeve.

"Thank you," I said quietly, willing myself not to pull my arm back.

"Where'd you get it?" she asked me.

"Um," I stuttered, "the boys got it for me."

Vivi laughed, "Vaughn buys all the clothes for my team," she said, "I don't have to shop, which is good because I hate it."

"You don't hate all shopping," Vaughn interjected, "you just hate clothes shopping."

"True," Vivi said, "I don't mind shopping at Home Depot or Advance Auto Parts."

I didn't say anything, enjoying their banter, and seeing that they were trying to put me at ease. Vivi liked to build and Vaughn liked to shop. They were sharing strange things about themselves, hoping I'd share something as well. But I had sat in enough guidance counselor's offices to know this trick, so I waited.

"What are your interests, Lyric?" Constance asked, when it became clear I wasn't going to fill the silence.

I met her eyes briefly before looking around the room, thinking of my interests, "Um, reading, art, math."

"I mean outside of school," Constance clarified.

I had a feeling that she already knew what I did out of school; which was try my best to survive. I decided to be as honest as I could without telling them anything.

"I don't have much time outside of school for anything besides babysitting and homework," I answered.

"But you're living at the McInnish residence now," Vivi interrupted, "That must give you more time."

"More time for what?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"For yourself," she replied.

"I still babysit everyday after school until evening," I answered, "and then I have homework."

Vivi crossed her arms, sitting back in her chair, "Really?"

"Really," I replied, starting to feel defensive as I began to understand the nature of her questions, "I'm not mooching off of them," I said, "I contribute."

"How?" Vaughn asked.

I stumbled, thinking of all the ways the boys told me I was contributing to our family, "I cook, and if one of the guys misses class, I take notes or help them catch up on material that they missed."

"Do you think you're an equal contributor to the McInnish team?" Constance asked me suddenly.

I opened my mouth to answer and then shut it. Constance raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to answer, "I…"

I thought about i; really thought about it. I cooked and I took notes, but I did more than that. I got Kell out of his head. I made James play, and I helped Taylor be both spontaneous and responsible.

"I think," I said slowly, "that even though I don't contribute materially to their team, I contribute in other ways that matter just as much."

I looked up as I finished talking, and saw Vaughn leaning back in his chair, smiling at me, while Vivi had her chin propped on her hands.

"I like you," she said bluntly, standing up, "I vote yes."

"Yes," Vaughn said as well.

"Yes," Constance added, "I agree."

"Huh?" I asked inarticulately.

"We would like to offer you a place in the Academy, Lyric," Constance clarified, "If you would like to join."

My finger came up to my lip, pressing it against my teeth. I bit down hard, relishing the pinch of pain that came. I felt myself get hot, and looked around the room.

"Can I have some water, please?" I asked, feeling overwhelmed. The room suddenly felt too hot, and my throat too tight.

Vaughn stood up quickly and came over to me, kneeling in front of my chair.

"Focus on your breath, Lyric," he said, "in and out."

I took a deep breath in, and held it. I wanted to let it out, I really really did, but it came out shallow, so I took another deep breath, but this one was just as shallow as the first, lifting my shoulders, increasing the tension in my body.

I tried to remember James's directions when I panicked, but the room started to tunnel, blackness hovering at the edges of my gaze.

"Lyric," James's voice came to me, commanding and unyielding, "Breathe in."

I felt a hand on top of my head and heard Taylor's voice in my ear, "You can do it Crash, come on, you're okay."

I nodded desperately, following James's directions and using Taylor's hand as a guide, breath in at the top of my head, breath out while he trails it down my hair.

"Priya," Kell's musical voice grounded me, "You are safe."

 _I am safe._ My vision cleared so I could see the boys around me. Their faces tight with worry.

"There you are," Kell said when my eyes met his.

A wave of shame overcame me, and I looked quickly around the room, but it was only the four of us.

"Did I mess up?" I asked, my chin wobbling until I bit down on my lip again.

"No," James said, "you didn't mess up at all."

Taylor smiled at me, his eyes twinkling, "You think you're the first person to almost pass out in this room? Nah."

I took a deep breath, leaning into Kell's chest, reaching up to take Taylor's hand, and holding tightly to James', "So what's next?"


	25. Next

**Next**

"Are you ready to talk to Constance again?" James asked, "she'll fill you in on all the details."

I didn't want them to leave again, but I nodded my head, "Sure."

Constance came into the room a moment later, "Ready for the rundown?" she asked.

"I think so," I replied, not letting go of the boys.

I saw that she carried a large binder in her arms and she dropped it on the table with a "thunk."

"Okay," she said, turning it so I could see, "The first thing we need to do, before we can start classes or training or anything like that, is get permission from your mother to enroll."

 _Well that will put a screeching halt to everything,_ I thought.

"She will never agree," I said, not sure if I was sad or relieved.

Constance made a sound that she neither agreed nor disagreed, "The Academy works a little bit differently than normal schools. Because our curriculum is so broad, we require that you pretty much live and breathe Academy life. In order to do that, we need to get rid of outside distractions. In the first year, students don't have non-Academy jobs or play on non-Academy teams. It is easier for them to stay with their teams, much like these guys stay all together in James's house. Or students will stay with an Academy foster family. In order to do that, we have biological parents sign over temporary custody to their foster family. We have a number of bird/dog teams who take on that role. Though sometimes we have bird/bird teams for female students."

I tried to follow her, "Bird what teams?"

"Bird/Dog. They are teams made up of a man and a woman, usually a married couple, sometimes siblings, like Vaughn and Vivi, though they are part of a larger sibling team, and a bird/bird team is made up of two women."

"So I would live with a couple I didn't know?" I asked, my finger hovering over my lip. I didn't want to live with someone I didn't know, especially not a strange adult man.

"For a while," Constance answered, her eyes smiling at me, "I have actually offered to take you once the Academy gets your mother to waive her rights, and until you find a team that fits you."

"We want you on our team," James interjected.

I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face, "You do?" I squeaked.

"Obviously," Kell replied, "you're part of our family now."

I saw Constance frown slightly and pin James with a warning look, "You can choose your team, Lyric," she explained, finally looking away from James, "but you need to understand one bird with three dogs just doesn't happen. We don't have teams made up of more than one male and a female. The Academy will help you find your best match."

"We're her best match," Taylor argued, his hand tightening on mine.

"Guys," Constance said gently, "we're not trying to steal her away from you."

I looked around at the boys, noting their tension.

"We will do what is in Lyric's best interest, just like we did what was in your best interest," she tried to reassure them.

"I want to stay with them," I added, "I don't want to be with anyone else."

Constance sighed, "Lyric…" she started.

"Please," I interrupted, "they are my family now."

I don't know where I was getting my courage from, but hearing the boys say they wanted me as part of their team filled me with something I couldn't name. They wanted me. Me! When they could have anyone.

"Besides," I added quietly, leaning back into Kell's chest, "it's probably moot. My mother will never sign away her rights. Not even temporarily. She only has a few more years that she can use me for money, and she won't let me go."

"What do you mean?" James asked, his face suddenly serious as he moved closer to me.

"She gets food assistance, rental assistance, and a child subsidy for me," I said, "it all goes away when I'm eighteen."

James's shoulders relaxed slightly. _I wonder what that was about,_ I thought, making a note to ask him later.

"She'll sign," Constance said, "we offer incentives to parents who may experience a financial or emotional hardship when their child starts school."

My mother certainly wouldn't experience an emotional hardship. If it wasn't for the money, I'm sure I would have been abandoned long ago. I felt a tiny sliver of hope. My mother was mercenary, and if the Academy could offer her more than the state, then she'd take it.

"I've made a formal request to adopt Lyric into our family," James told Constance.

"James," Constance breathed, shaking her head.

"Really?" I asked excited. I didn't know what he did, but I liked the sound of "formal" and "family."

"So I could stay with you?" I asked him, nearly bouncing in my seat. I heard Kell chuckle behind me, and Taylor smiled at me.

"I really really want to stay with them," I told Constance again.

"I understand," she answered, leaning back in her chair, "We'll take it under advisement. For now, go home. We'll be in touch."

The boys stood, and I stood with them. Constance stuck her hand out to me, and I shook it, "Thank you," I said, gratefully.

She smiled at me genuinely, "It was a pleasure to finally meet you Lyric. Boys," she said, nodding at the guys.

They dragged me out of the office and toward the elevator, pushing the button and herding me inside. They were all quiet, but each one was holding onto me; Kell had his hand against my back, while the other two guys held my hands.

When we got to the car, Kell opened the back door for me, and I slid inside. He slid in after me, quickly pulling me into his body and wrapping his arms around me. I felt his cheek against my head and I wrapped my arms around him, surprised to feel his body trembling.

"Kell," I said worriedly, trying to pull away to look at him.

I heard the doors slam and then we were driving away.

No one said anything until we got out of the parking garage and were on the road, "You didn't tell us she could join another team, James," Taylor said accusingly.

My eyes snapped forward and I saw Taylor leaning his back against the window with his arms crossed while he glared at James.

"I didn't know it was a possibility," he said through gritted teeth, "I made the request, I never thought they wouldn't approve."

Kell didn't say anything, but his arms tightened around me.

"We acted too fast, man," Taylor said, shaking his head, "I told you we needed a contingency plan."

"This is the contingency plan," James uttered tightly.

Taylor turned around and I heard him cracking his knuckles. I ran my fingers through Kell's hair, trying to soothe him. I could feel his body shiver every so often. Every time I tried to pull away to look at him, he would gather me closer, and I realized he didn't want me to see his face.

"It's okay," I whispered to him, the same thing he always told me, "You're safe. I'm not leaving you."

"Priya," he whispered on an exhalation.

"Damn right," Taylor said from the front seat, "you're not leaving us. You're ours and we're keeping you."

I smiled at Taylor, leaning my head against Kell's chest so I could listen to his heartbeat.

"Good," I replied, "then you're mine. And I'm not letting you go."

I saw James's eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, his brows pulled down low. I could see he was overwhelmed with guilt and worry, "James," I said gently, "you did the right thing. We will figure this out. As long as we're together, we're okay."

He gave a tight nod, but I could see, he was still worried.


	26. Stay

**Stay**

We drove straight to James's house, and I could hear the boys' stomachs grumbling the whole way.

"I'm making lunch," I announced as James pulled into the driveway, "go relax."

"I'll come with you," Taylor argued, following me inside, "Make sure you don't wound yourself or something."

He gave me a smile that didn't touch his eyes and I realized that he needed to be close to me. I had done a complete turn around from being sure that the boys couldn't get rid of me fast enough, to thinking that they wanted to help me cook, just so they could keep me in their sight.

"Good," I said thinking quickly, "maybe you could grill chicken for me?"

"Sure," he said, looking relieved.

I dug in the fridge for chicken and wasn't surprised when I turned around to see the other guys sitting at the island as well.

I passed a tomato to Kell and an avocado to James, "Here," I told them, "peel. Slice."

I started boiling water for rice and warming the oven for the tortillas.

Soon everything was diced and chopped and Taylor was carrying a plate of grilled chicken inside. I chopped up the chicken and brought all the ingredients to the table.

"Help yourself, guys," I said, and started passing out tortillas.

I added chicken and all the veggies I could find to mine, then poured on salsa and rolled it up.

"No rice?" Taylor asked with a mouth full of food.

I shook my head, and took a bite. Most of the vegetables fell out the back, so I ended up with a salsa tortilla, but I didn't care. I just scooped it up, and shoved it back inside, licking my fingers clean before taking another bite. I heard James groan and I looked up at him quickly. He was staring at my mouth.

I put my tortilla down and grabbed a napkin, wiping my lips, "Better?" I asked, turning my head from side to side.

James nodded, his cheeks coloring. I heard the doorbell ring just as James's phone vibrated. I stood up, wiping my hands on the napkin.

"I'll get it," I said, heading out of the kitchen, as James was pulling his phone out of his pocket.

I had made it through the dining room and had my hand on the knob to open the front door when I heard a crash from the kitchen and Kell calling out, "Wait!"

But it was too late, I had already begun opening the door.

Two uniformed town cops stood on the stoop.

"Miss Sorenson," one said, "your mother's been looking for you."

 _No._

I took a step back from the door, and the one who had spoken stepped forward with me, reaching for my hand.

"You're not in trouble," he said quickly, trying to keep me from running.

I heard footsteps behind me and felt a body at my back, "Officers," James greeted.

The officers stood up straighter and one crossed his arms, "James," he said, "Miss Sorenson cannot stay here with you. She needs to go home."

I saw Kell step forward from the corner of my eye, his eyebrows pulled down low over his narrowed eyes, and then I saw Taylor pull him back, all while he spoke into his phone.

"She's studying here," James answered politely, getting my attention, "I'll be sure to bring her home after."

"James," the officer sighed, "You can't harbor every lost soul you find."

I looked back at James confused, but he shook his head infinitesimally, letting me know it was nothing.

"We're giving her a ride home," the officer said again, "you'll see her at school. You enrolled in public high school I heard."

James nodded, "I did," he replied, "but Standish," he argued, "I can bring her home. You don't need to."

He pulled out his car keys, "I'll bring her now."

Officer Standish, shook his head, "How old are you James?"

I saw James's shoulders tense, and the muscle tick in his cheek, "Seventeen," he answered.

"How old are you Miss Sorenson?" he asked me.

"Fifteen," I said quietly.

"And how long have you been staying here?" he followed.

I didn't say anything, but his threat hung in the air. I was underage, and James could get in trouble. Of course, he was assuming James had…

"I'll go with you," I said quickly, "Nothing happened. I asked to stay. I even had my own room," I started talking rapidly, making excuses, while stepping forward. The officer nodded his head, stepping back for me.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," I told James.

"No, Lyric," James said, putting a hand on my arm, "just wait."

"Look, James," Officer Standish warned, "You're lucky we're not arresting you. Her mother wanted to press charges."

Sounds like my mother, She would do that, if she thought that she would get something out of it.

"Lyric," James said, taking my hand.

"Tomorrow," I told him, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

I heard a motorcycle's engine rev, and pull away from the house. Kell had left.

I squeezed James's hand before letting go and following the policemen to their car. They opened the backdoor and I slid in. A plexiglass shield separated me from the officers, and I sat on a hard plastic bench. There were metal tie down anchors in the floor, but no seatbelt.

"You can't run away from home when you don't like the rules, Lyric," the unnamed officer told me.

I almost laughed, imagining the story my mother had made up. What would they think if I told them that my mother wanted me home because she needed my money to get drunk?

I was surprised, actually, that she called the cops. She had a record, and probably a few outstanding tickets. It was weird… I felt a sudden fear settle in my stomach.

She wanted something, that was the only reason she would call the cops.

I realized I hadn't answered the officer, so I stayed quiet, watching the scenery slip by as we got closer and closer to my trailer. A motorcycle passed us and I recognized Kell. I wondered if he was following us.

Officer Standish turned down our long driveway and I linked my hands together nervously. As they stopped the car, my mother and Tim came out of the front door.

Officer Standish opened the back for me and helped me out, "Miss Manning," he said, greeting my mom, "Tim."

"Miles," Tim said, "Thanks for bringing our girl home."

 _Ugh._ I wanted to vomit. I wasn't his girl.

"Lyric," my mom said, standing with her hands on her hips. This must be her mom posture. I wondered if she practiced it while she waited for me.

"Mom," I replied.

"Right to your room," she said, moving aside from the door.

"I need to check my bike in the shed, first," I said. I didn't want to go in the trailer. If I went in the trailer, I was trapped, easily cornered.

"Lyric," my mom said, her voice hard, "room. Now."

"Lyric," Officer Standish said, "listen to your mom."

I walked slowly up the steps, waiting for Tim to move aside, but he didn't. I took a deep breath and moved forward. I was forced to drag my body along his as I walked in the door. He stepped closer, making my back catch against the doorframe and scrape along the metal as I moved inside.

I went right into my bedroom, and closed the door, pushing in the lock.

I hadn't left James's house with anything, not my backpack, not a change of clothes, not my bike. I walked over to my window, pushing out the screen, and made sure I could get out if I needed to. I saw the officers pulling away and sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for whatever was coming.

I didn't have to wait long.

"LYRIC!" my mother yelled and began pounding on my door.

I jumped off the bed and went to the window, looking out to make sure the cops were truly gone.

I needed to get out.

I could find a place to hide in the woods, away from here, and away from the guys so they wouldn't get in trouble.

The door shot open, slamming into the wall, the knob embedding itself in the plaster. I didn't wait to see who was coming through, I just ran to the window. I reached my arms out, ready to dive head first, but before I could, a hand fisted in my hair and pulled me back.

"Nope," Tim said, pulling me back inside.

I cried out in pain.

"Lyric," my mom said, coming into the bedroom smiling, "what in the world do you think you're doing?"

Tim let me go, pushing me hard, and I fell on my hands and knees.

"You were messing around in my room, getting into things you shouldn't have been," Tim said to me as he squatted down next to my head, "what'd you see?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, feeling myself start to panic. I mentally measured the distance between me and the door, and me and the window.

I felt a yank on my arm, and nails digging into my skin as my mom yanked me. I stood, rather than let my shoulder get dislocated.

"You got in my stuff," my mom said angrily, grabbing both my shoulders and shaking me.

"I didn't touch anything," I told her, "I don't know…"

She slapped me across the face, "Don't lie to me!" she screamed, "What did you see?"

"I didn't see anything," I cried, backing up toward the window. It was my best bet, there were too many obstacles if I ran through the door.

"Listen," my mom hissed, getting so close to me I could see how black her eyes were and how her hands trembled as she pointed at me. She was definitely on something, "You are not to leave this house. You go to school, and you come home. No more babysitting, no more whatever it was you were doing at the McInnish's."

I nodded. I'd tell her whatever she wanted if it would get them out of here and away from me.

I snuck a look at the window again. When I looked back, Tim had narrowed his gaze on me, a calculating look gleaming in his eyes. He started to walk toward me, and I backed up, keeping close to the window. I couldn't let him get between me and my exit.

"Close the window, Stace," he told my mom as if he could read my mind.

She walked behind me and shut the window hard, slamming it down.

 _Okay then, door it is,_ I thought.

"And get the camera," Tim told her.

I looked at my mom, confused, and she smiled at me. It was a smile like I've never seen before, distant and cruel, and I realized, whoever she had been and whatever love she may have felt for me, was gone.

I decided to cut my losses; a night in juvenile detention would be a better option than staying here to see what what was in store for me.

Maybe I can hide out in the woods, and maybe the Academy will be able to make my mom some sort of deal that makes her forget all about me, but today I needed to survive.

The decision was made and I needed to act. I ran for the door. Tim was just far enough away that it took him more than one stride to reach me, but he still managed to get ahold of my sweater, throwing me off balance. I slammed into the wall, but kept going, my eyes on the front door. I just needed to get there.

I heard Tim behind me, and grabbed the knob, pulling the door open, and pushing the storm door at the same time.

A hard yank pulled me back into the house and I flew backward, crashing into the coffee table. The breath whooshed out of me as my back slammed into the wood. I turned to the side, onto my hands in knees and pushed myself up. A swift kick to my stomach brought me back to the ground. I had no breath left to cry out. The air around me got hazy and everything seemed to slow down. I felt hands on my ankles, pulling me forward. My sluggish brain sent a delayed message to my fingers, which scrabbled against the carpet, trying to find purchase so I could get away. I managed to turn my upper body, and saw my mom. One arm is crossed over her middle, while the other hand held her cell phone.

I looked back up to Tim, and saw his fist swinging toward my face, I shut my eyes tight, expecting the hit, but it didn't come.

Instead, Tim's weight was lifted off of me and I heard a crash, and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. I saw Kell and Taylor tackling Tim and wrestling him to the ground. Tim was fighting, but the guys had rage on their side, and he didn't stand a chance.

I watched in disoriented amazement as Kell and Taylor worked together, pinning Tim and throwing each other zip ties. When Tim tried to sit up, Taylor pushed him back to the ground and Kell nailed him in face. Tim's eyes rolled back in his head, and he crashed to the floor. I stood up shakily, holding onto my ribs with one arm.

"Lyric," Taylor said, moving toward me slowly, his voice low and intense, before he wrapped his arm around my waist and gently pulled me toward him.

"Tay," I answered, bring my face against him and breathing him in.

I heard one more smack and looked around. Kell stood up slowly, his hands still fisted. His face, when I saw it, was ravaged with emotion.

My breath hitched and I would have fallen if Taylor hadn't been holding onto me, "Kell," I choked.

He took a step toward me, until we were face to face.

But his eyes wouldn't land on mine.

He stared at the floor; his chest was heaving, a fine sheen of sweat covering his face, while he held his arms stiffly at his sides.

I reached forward tentatively, gripping his jacket in my hands and tugging him forward until he could press against me. I felt his forehead touch my shoulder. Taylor stepped into my back, his hands reaching up to settle on my waist. I felt his lips against my neck, and heard his shuddering exhalation in my ear. I reached back with one hand, pulling him more tightly into my body, while wrapping my other arm around Kell's waist.

"Thank you," I whispered, tilting my head so my lips could touch Kell's cheek and I could rest my head on Taylor's.

A sudden slamming of a car door caught my attention and I heard a choked cry, "Lyric!"

James had arrived.

Kell and Taylor stayed close to me, holding me upright between their bodies while I lifted my head to see James.

He stared aghast at the scene, taking in Tim's unmoving form, and my mother, who had slid to the floor, staring off into nothing.

He walked toward me, his eyes roaming my form, and I could see him cataloging every bruise and cut.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he got closer, "I was too late."

I shook my head and reached out a hand. He fisted his hands closed and shook his head.

"No," he said harshly, "You don't comfort me. That's not right." His voice broke on the last word as he watched me.

I moved from between Kell and Taylor. James backed up, his eyes widening, "No, Lyric," he begged, "I didn't help you. I let you go. I don't deserve…" he couldn't finish.

His pale face got even paler and he turned away. I watched him for a moment, unsure. In profile he looked like a marble carving of an angel, but broken, and devastated.

"No," I said, shaking my head, and gripping his hand tightly. I moved my body in front of his when he refused to face me.

"You tried to keep me with you," I said quietly, intensely, "I know what you were trying to do James. And you gave time to Kell and Taylor to get here. I know why you didn't come with them."

"You should hate me," he said, his beautiful golden brown eyes lifting to meet mine.

I smiled half-heartedly, "That's silly," I said, shaking my head, "I could never hate you."

"But I let you down," he argued.

I shook my head harder, then bit my lip when it made the room spin, "You could never let me down."

I turned to face Kell and Taylor, who watched me closely, ready to step forward at the slightest sign of needing them, "You could ever let me down," I repeated, meeting each of their eyes, and holding their gaze.

James let out a sigh, and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. I reached up and took his hands in mine, pulling them down to my face and kissing them lightly.

I heard a giggle from the side of the trailer, and looked over at my mom who was staring at us with a strange look on her face. As soon as James looked over at her, his face darkened. He let my hands go and walked toward her, squatting so he could look at her face. Before she could move, he'd swiped the phone out of her hands and stood.

"You're never to call the police about her again," he warned, putting the phone in his pocket without looking at it.

My mom shook her head, "Not my problem anymore," she said, a cheshire-like grin appearing on her face, "I'm done with her. You can do whatever it is you're doing," she added, waving her hand in our direction.

I looked over at the boys, could the Academy have offered her something already? James narrowed his eyes at her, but shook his head.

"I don't want to hear from you again," he reiterated.

"You won't," she agreed, nodding her head, but biting her lip.

I felt Kell's hand on my back, and Taylor's move across my shoulders, leading me out of the trailer. James stood up, looking once more around the trailer and down at Tim, before he followed us out and into the night.


	27. Kell's Point of View

_Hi Everyone: Thank you for reading. This update is a little bit different- please let me know what you think...  
_

 _Thanks!_

* * *

 **Kell's Point of View**

James pulled his phone out of his pocket, his eyebrows drawn together as he accessed the outside cameras.

He stood quickly, his chair slamming into the cabinets, his face pale, "Stop her," he choked.

Taylor jumped up, kicking James's chair out of his way as he leapt to the door.

"Wait!" I yelled, standing up, and calling to Lyric. I didn't know what was happening, but James's face told me Lyric was in trouble. I ran toward the door, but Taylor stopped me with his arm across the frame.

"Stop," he whispered, pulling out his phone.

I looked over his shoulder and saw two town officers. I recognized Officer Standish, and saw him take a step toward Lyric, his hand outstretched as she took a step back.

 _No. He would not touch her._

James shouldered us out of the way, sending us a look to say: _use favors, get the Academy_. Taylor pulled his phone out, dialing Constance. I heard him explaining the situation to her. He turned to me, his face creasing in concern, his eyes worried.

"What do you mean?" he hissed.

I clenched my hands to stop myself from grabbing the phone and demanding Constance explain what was happening, but I saw Standish reach toward Lyric again. I felt hot; rage bubbling up inside of me, and I stepped forward to stop him. _She was ours, no one else touched her._

Taylor stopped me with a hand to my chest. Lyric's eyes met mine, fear evident in her gaze before her eyes snapped back to Standish.

"We need to get in position, Kell," Taylor said tonelessly, getting my attention.

I struggled, every cell in my body pulling me to Lyric, but recognizing that I couldn't help her here. I allowed Taylor to push me back into the kitchen, balling up my fist to slam into the wall, but Taylor grabbed my hand.

"Get to her trailer," he directed, "I'll be right behind you. Her mother reported her as a runaway, and there's a problem with the adoption on the Academy's end. James has the cameras up, but we need to be ready to extract if there's a problem."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The desire to hurt myself growing as my fear built. In the old days, I would have made a cut, or punched the wall, but now I forced myself to move, and to feel the emotions coursing through me. I spoke the words the Academy had taught me; _my emotions didn't rule me anymore, I could control them._

I forced a deep breath and nodded again, running out of the kitchen to my bike. I kicked it started and roared down the driveway, peeling onto the main highway toward Lyric's house.

I had never been there before. Taylor and James had, and they had said that it was rough.

That was James' word, _rough._ Sometimes, his manners and good breeding presented themselves like a reflex, and honesty took a backseat for politeness. Then he had described what he'd found in the "rough" trailer: the drugs, the gun, the images of girls, of Lyric. That was when the facade had cracked, and he'd requested an accelerated adoption.

We loved her. I knew this without having to ask my brothers how they felt. From the first moment I saw Lyric, and then, when she offered to correct my physics homework, I felt a pull to her. This short week in her presence had made what I was feeling clear. It was something I'd never expected or even wanted. I had my team, my brothers, that had been enough.

Until her.

This girl came into my life like a thunderbolt, and somehow, wound her way around the organ I thought lay dead inside me, and shocked me back to life. She brought to life words that the Academy taught me, the lessons I had never truly understood until I met her.

I saw the mailbox, 152, and shot by, driving to the next road and turning around, only to shoot by one more time. I passed the police car, and pulled into a driveway, waiting for James.

I yanked my helmet off, stuffing it into the saddlebag, and let the cold air rush over my superheated face. My hands shook, and I leaned forward, grasping the handlebars, trying to keep myself focused.

 _Get into position, monitor, extract if necessary._

I knew it would be necessary. Her mother had let seven days pass before she called the police. Seven. bloody. days. And then there was Taylor's conversation with Constance when he had rung her.

Lyric was her mother's only consistent source of money. The illegal activity she was engaged in would offer big payouts, but from James' investigation into her finances, they were sporadic. There were no bank accounts or statements to look at, just the purchase of big ticket items: a t.v., an xbox, an iphone; and then, when the money ran out, the items would be sold again for cash.

Lyric's money was what got them wasted day-to-day, or got them fed. I had a hard time believing though, that what they wanted from Lyric was beer money.

I heard the rumble of an engine and Taylor's truck pulled up in front of the driveway.

He rolled his window down, "Follow me," he called out, "turn your headlights off."  
I followed Taylor to a turnaround; he drove off the road, into the shrubs, and I parked my bike next to his truck. He threw me a bunch of zip ties and I jammed them into my back pocket as my phone started to vibrate in my pocket.

"James."  
"Get over there," he said, his voice breathless. I could hear the squeal of tires through the phone and knew that he'd had to wait for the police to leave and he was now racing to Lyric.

"She's in the bedroom," he said, "Get there now. I have to go."

The line disconnected. He would still be monitoring the cameras remotely.

Taylor had begun jogging through the woods and before I had even hung up the phone, I was following him.

We moved noisily through the woods, stepping on branches and dry leaves. I could only hope that the t.v. was turned up enough to mask the sound of our approach. I could see the lights of the trailer gleaming yellow through the branches of trees.

I heard a cry and a crash, and Taylor sprinted forward, nearly losing me. We ran up the steps of the trailer. I didn't see anything except Taylor's back, and then…

Lyric.

Her hand was raised up to shield her face. I could see the blood on her fingers, her nails torn, and I could see the man hulking over her, his fist cocked back.

Taylor lunged, grabbing him from behind, and I followed suit.

 _He had touched her. Hurt her. Made her bleed._

I felt a disconnect in my body. Taylor punched him in the stomach, and I kneeled on his legs, reaching in my back pocket for zip ties, passing them to Taylor as we wrestled him to his stomach and secured his arms, before turning him over. I looked at Taylor, who nodded at me in understanding and sat back, I punched the man in the face, over and over, relishing the pain of split knuckles and bruised bones until I felt his body go slack.

Taylor had already made his way to Lyric. He was holding her up, burying his face in her neck. I could see the way his body curved around hers protectively.

I made a move to follow when my eyes caught sight of the blood dripping from my hands. I wasn't fit to touch her.

I stood, not wanting to meet her eyes and see the disgust there, but then I heard her small scared voice, "Kell."

I looked up, her eyes held me transfixed, and she looked at me with emotions I never thought to see directed toward me: love, understanding, need.

 _She needed us._

I took a step toward her, her eyes not leaving mine, and another until I could touch her. Her hands gripped the sleeves of my jacket, pulling me flush into her body. I let my face fall to her neck and kissed her gently, breathing in her sweet smell.

 _Mine._

 _Ours._

I heard movement behind me, and without looking up, I knew that James had arrived. Lyric looked over at him, and as much as I hated to move, I knew my brother would need her.

She took a step forward, "Don't," he choked.

His guilt was blinding him. He was our team leader, and he would own the mistakes of this night, heap them up until they crushed him.

I heard her, arguing with him, and then she was enfolding him in her arms. Healing him the way she healed me, the way she healed all of us, without even knowing it.


	28. Sleepy Nicknames

**Sleepy Nicknames**

I touched the back of my hand to my lip, and winced, pulling it away quickly. I couldn't stop worrying the cut with my tongue, re-opening the wound. The pain was comforting for some reason. It was easier to think about that than my mother watching her boyfriend beat me up while she recorded the action on her cell phone.

My mom had never been a caretaker, but for a little while, in memories that seemed hazier and hazier, she had been fun. She didn't worry about birthdays or Christmases; cavities or going to the doctor. But there were times of wonderful silliness at the park, jumping off of swings or hanging upside down on the monkey bars.

As I aged, she became more and more distant; cared less about the people she spent time with, and let herself wallow in a haze of drugs and booze. Still, I thought somewhere, buried deep inside her, would be a connection to me that she couldn't deny. I had assumed, if the chips were down, she'd be on my side. But if she'd never stepped in front of a hit for me before, why would she today? It's just… she'd never actively participated either.

I sniffed, and in the green glow of the dashboard lights, I saw James digging in his pocket before reaching to the backseat to hand me a handkerchief.

Taylor leaned forward, grabbing it for me, before he leaned back and pulled me back into his body. Kell turned around from where he sat to look at me. I was grateful that no one spoke. Now that we were away from the trailer, and I was safe, the events of the day started to compound, one on top of the other. First the Academy, then the police officers, and finally getting beat up by Tim and my mother.

The little girl voice in my head was crying and stomping her foot, asking why I couldn't be loved, why things had to be hard. Then a darker voice began to echo through my mind, telling me that I didn't deserve love, that I should wait and see, because no matter how much I loved the boys or anyone else, they'd never love me back.

I must have been holding the handkerchief a while, staring at it like I didn't know what to do, because Taylor reached over and took it from my hands, gently pressing it against both my cheeks and then holding it to my lip.

"You don't want to bleed all over James's fancy car now, do ya Crash?" he asked me, trying to infuse his voice with a lightness I knew he didn't feel.

I forced a laugh, because I didn't want him to feel bad.

I reached up and touched his hand with mine, letting him know he could let go if he wanted to, but he didn't, he just reached up with his other hand to cup my chin.

I held my hand over his, feeling his strong hand and closed my eyes, leaning back against the seat.

The next thing I knew, I was wrapped in a cold leather jacket, and pressed against a hard chest.

"I can carry her, Kell," Taylor whispered angrily.

"I know you can, numpty," Kell whispered back, "but you were much too slow and I have her now."

"I can walk," I said, not wanting them to argue, and I pushed against Kell's chest, but he just pulled me in tighter.

"I know you can," he replied, "but I want to carry you."

I sighed, letting my head thump back onto his chest and closing my eyes. I could smell the sea and opened my eyes, Kell hadn't brought me into my room, but to one of theirs. He laid me gently on the bed, and started to take my shoes off. I felt the bed dip and looked over to see Taylor pushing my hair back to look into my face, checking bruises and looking in my eyes.

"I'm gonna get a washcloth for your face?" he said, phrasing it like a question.

"Got it," James's voice carried to me.

James came into view, his golden eyes narrowed in concentration as he lightly pressed the washcloth to my face, cleaning up chin and my cheeks. I could feel Kell at my feet, pulling my socks off and tucking my legs under the sheets. Taylor looked over at James and shifted away.

"Wait," I cried softly. Taylor stopped and shifted back to me, "Will you stay?"

He looked up again at James, who nodded, before rested his head on the pillow.

"Will you all stay?" I asked, looking down at Kell and James.

They both nodded, Kell's eyes dark with something that made my stomach clench. I felt the bed shift again, and then the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. My eyelids were getting heavy; probably a result of the adrenaline leaving my body. I saw James slide into a comfy looking chair near the bed.

I closed my eyes, letting fatigue pull me toward sleep.

"Sleep next to me, Jamie," I whispered, snuggling deeper into the covers.

I heard a chuckle next to me, Taylor's deep voice reverberating in my ear, "Jamie?"  
I nodded against the pillow, "Jamie," I reached my hand out, and opened my eyes long enough to locate James's hand, then I reached behind me and pulled Taylor's arm around my waist, and closed my eyes again, "and Tex."

"What about me, Priya," I heard Kell's whisper.

My Kell didn't want to be left out; he might mask his feelings behind an emotionless facade, but I knew what he was feeling, "My Kell," I said, my mouth opening in a huge yawn, "I just think of you as mine."

I let myself drift, surrounded by the scents and arms of the guys who protected me.

"You're ours, Priya," I heard Kell whisper and I drifted off to sleep.


	29. Complications

**Complications**

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a twinge in my side, and overall muscle soreness, like I'd run a race. Not bad, actually, for getting kick around. I stretched carefully in bed, before making my way to the bathroom. I didn't look in the mirror, just turned on the shower and went through my morning routine carefully. I wrapped myself in a towel, and crept out of the bathroom, taking a moment to look around me. I saw a music stand and a pile of sheet music near the balcony. A violin lay in its open case. Books were piled up next to the bed. It was messy and lived in, not at all what I expected from Jamie.

James!

I meant James.

He seemed so buttoned up. I thought that every item would have a specific place. I liked the way his room looked lived in, like an outward reflection of the inner workings of his brain. I opened the door to the room, and stuck my head out, no one was in the hall, so I hightailed it to my room. I found the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt that Taylor had given me my first night here. I had decided that they belonged to me. I tried to put on my bra, but my arms protested the movement when I attempted to fasten the straps behind my back, so I just pulled the t-shirt on before heading downstairs.

I could hear raised voices from the back of the house, James's short and sharp, and Taylor's low and drawn out. I was surprised when I entered the dining room and saw Constance, from the Academy, sitting at the table.

"Lyric," she greeting me, her eyebrows raised as she took in my outfit.

I crossed my arms over my chest self-consciously, before pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Where's Kell?" I asked looking around.

James sat down at the table, and after a moment, Taylor sat as well. His eyes on the wood, tracing the patterns with one finger.

"He needed to get some air," James answered, meeting my eyes briefly before looking at Taylor again, "he went for a ride."

"Oh," I answered, disappointed. I had hoped to see all of them this morning, and do something nice for them after they rescued me yesterday.

"Do any of you want breakfast?" I asked, looking at Constance, "I can make something quickly."  
Constance shook her head; I looked at the guys, but they shook their heads as well.

"But you need to eat," Taylor said suddenly, clearing his throat, "you barely got a bite of lunch yesterday before you left…" he trailed off, running his hand through his hair and going into the kitchen quickly.

"So Lyric," Constance said, getting my attention, "Taylor and James called me last night, and have asked for The Academy to help with your living situation."

 _Did they tell her everything?_ I wondered.

As if she could read my mind, Constance continued, "They told me about the abuse you suffered," she finished kindly.

I nodded, feeling my face flame, suddenly ashamed.

"Unfortunately," she said softly, "our intervention isn't going to be as straight forward as we hoped."

James was continuing to watch Constance, but I recognized his stressed out face. I reached across the table for his hand. I tapped on his fist, and he looked at me, his eyes tight and mouth compressed into a white line.

"Jamie?" I whispered worriedly.

"Your mom had already signed away her parental rights," James said, his voice angry, "earlier this week. The Academy discovered she signed a court order, granting guardianship to a family member."

"And then, she had a huge influx of cash," Constance interrupted, "she's blown through most of it now, but it's suspicious. We've investigated the family member, and he checks out. Has a job, a family, volunteers. Doesn't seem like a bad guy."

Each word out of her mouth made me feel a little sicker.

"Who is it?" I asked, already knowing.

"Garret Sorenson," she said, "your father's cousin."

No wonder Kell had needed fresh air.

I took a deep breath, "So what does that mean?" I asked.

"Well," Constance said, looking me straight in the eye, "I'm not really sure. We don't know why he would ask for custody of you, so we're going to have the Academy lawyers approach him. It's just more complicated because we have two sets of court documents to get around, and not just one relatively straight forward process, as we thought we had."

Taylor walked back in with toast covered in peanut butter and a glass of water, "This okay?" he asked, sliding it in front of me.

I nodded, pulling the crust off the toast as I continued to process Constance's revelations.

"Can I stay here in the meantime?" I asked, looking at James.

He nodded decisively, "Of course," he said, "we're your family now."

"James," Constance warned, shaking her head at him.

"She's family," Taylor reiterated.

I heard the front door slam and boots get scuffed along the rug in the entryway.

"Kell," James called out.

Kell appeared in the doorframe a moment later. His cheeks were pink with cold and his hair blown around his head. He had his motorcycle jacket zipped up, but I could see the hood of a grey sweatshirt peeking from the back. His eyes were hard, but softened somewhat when I smiled at him and held out my hand, "Sit with us?" I asked.

He sighed, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, and shook his head, "I have a long list of things I need to do," he said, not quite meeting my eyes when he looked up from under lowered brows.

I lowered my hand to the table, feeling awkward, "Okay," I replied, "can I help?"

He shook his head again, "I'll see you later," he said, and walked away. I heard him clomp up the stairs and a moment later the door to his room shut.

My finger came up to my lip, pushing it to my teeth. I realized I was staring after him when Constance called my name, "Lyric? Lyric?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

She smiled at me, "This does change the timetable for your start at the Academy."

"Why?" James interjected, "You didn't say that before."

"I was waiting for Lyric," Constance explained.

"There's no reason she can't start at the Academy before you have custody," Taylor added hotly.

"There is," Constance said, her voice brooking no argument, "and we can't start her right now."

I felt my shoulders sag as I thought of continuing at my high school, of Keefe, of Riley, of the question of Garret Sorenson.

"You need to continue at your school," Constance told me, watching me carefully, "please know that the Academy is doing everything we can to expedite your enrollment. But there are some corners we can't cut."

I nodded, looking at the table before looking back to Constance, "I understand," I replied looking over briefly at Taylor and James, "I just want to stay here, as long as they want me."

Constance chuckled, "We know," she answered, "The Academy is quite clear on your desire to stay with the McInnish team."

She stood up, and pushed her chair back into the table, "We'll be in touch, Lyric," she said, giving me a smile and walking around the table to squeeze my hand, "Promise."

I smiled back at her, "Thanks, Constance."

She hefted her bag onto her shoulder and gave the boys small waves before leaving.

"We're late," James said, looking down at his watch.

"Oh my gosh!" I cried, "School!"

"I'll take you today," Taylor said, "you go on, Jamie," he said, winking at James.

I stopped in my mad dash up the stairs to look back at them. Taylor was watching me with a smile and James was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, staring at the floor. I vaguely remembered telling the boys the nicknames I'd given them before falling asleep last night. I realized that I'd let it slip while we'd been talking to Constance.

I gripped the railing and watched James, "I won't call you that," I said, "if you don't like it."

He looked at me, but stood up straighter when he saw my uncertainly, "No," he said, "I like it Lyric."

I pushed my lip to my teeth, "Yeah?"

He nodded, reaching down to grab his bag and a jacket from the coatrack, "I'll see you at school," he said, smiling a little.

"Okay," I said, "bye Jamie."

He shook his head at me, giving a small chuckle, and left.

"Hurry up, Crash," Taylor called up at me, "unless you plan on wearing that to school."

I shook my head, already running back up the stairs and into my room. Two minutes was all I needed to throw on jeans. I put on a tank top, another t-shirt, and a bulky sweater since I still wasn't able to fasten a bra. I looked in the mirror quickly, making sure no one would be able to tell. I thought I could get away with it, and ran back out the door.

I hit the top of the stairs and stopped. Taylor lifted one eyebrow at me, as he stood at the bottom, holding both our bags. I held up one finger, telling him to wait, and turn back down the hall to Kell's room.

I'd never been in his room, but I knew which one was his because he had his music playing. It was low, but I could still hear the bass pounding through the door.

I knocked and put my ear to the door, listening for movement. I didn't hear anything and knocked again, a little louder. Still nothing.

I bit my lip, and looked back down the hall. Taylor hadn't come up, so I couldn't ask him if I should just go in. I stood for a moment, contemplating what to do, before gripping the knob and turning it slowly. It was unlocked.

I opened it an inch and called into the room, "Kell?"

I didn't realize that the door was muffling so much sound. With it open, I could hear how loud the music was. No wonder he didn't answer it.

"Kell?" I called a little louder.

Kell's room was spartan. There was a very complicated looking sound system and bookcases that were mostly empty. The bed was unmade, a duvet with grey-blue chevrons on the floor. I wanted to explore, but I was already invading his space, so I looked away.

"Kell!" I called out.

The door to his closet was open, and I walked over, "Kell," I said.

I walked to the stereo, and turned the knob that I thought was for the volume.

"Taylor!" I heard Kell's angry voice, before the door to the bathroom flew open, slamming into the wall, "Get the fuck out of my room!"

I jumped, tripping over his duvet and landing on his bed. I stood up quickly.

"It's me," I said hurriedly, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to check on you."

Kell sighed, and I saw him place something shiny on the sink.

"I'm fine, Lyric," he said, "just busy. Really. I haven't gotten much done this last week, and I need to catch up on some stuff."

 _Because of you._ My mind filled in the words.

"Okay," I answered, slowly turning around and leaving, "but, you'll um… let me know?"

I looked back at him, he was watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't smile. His face was so different than from when he was looking at me last night. It was such a change that it made me feel a little light headed. I put my hand on my forehead, rubbing back and forth as I waited for him to answer. I bit my lip, but he continued to watch me silently.

Finally, when it became clear he wouldn't answer, I turned back to the door, "If you need anything, My Kell," I said quietly, gripping the knob tightly and closing the door, "I'm here."

"For how long?" I thought I heard him say quietly as the door closed.

I walked slowly down the hall, each step away from Kell a physical pain in my heart. I walked down the stairs and took my bag from Taylor, "Sorry to keep you waiting," I apologized, hating the way my voice shook.

I hazarded a glance up at him, and saw him staring up the stairs, an angry look on his face. When he caught my eyes, he gave me a small smile, "Come on," he said, "let's get a move on."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading! Please review and comment:) ~ Ripley_


	30. Guardian

**Guardian**

I couldn't stop thinking about Kell. Something was wrong. Really wrong. I tapped my finger against my lips.

"What's the matter, Crash?" Taylor asked, reaching over to take my hand.

I shook my head. I couldn't really put into words what it was that was bothering me about Kell, but then again, Taylor and James knew Kell better than me.

"Are you worried about Kell?" I asked him.

He looked over at me briefly, shifting on the seat and letting go of my hand. His arm snaked across the back of the bench seat, and he cupped my neck.

"A little," he answered finally, "he's always been hard to read."

"He's upset," I replied, "I think."

"He's worried," Taylor corrected, "he needs to work things out in his head and then he'll be better."

I bit my lip, not liking the idea of My Kell sitting home alone worrying himself to death.

"I hope he's okay," I whispered, "I'm just…I worry."

"Do you think he'll come to school?" I asked, looking over at Taylor who had become more and more quiet the ride progressed. He pulled into the school parking lot and put the truck in park.

"Probably not today," he answered, pulling out the key, and jerkily grabbing his bag.

He got out of the truck, closing the door with a little more force than necessary and walked around to my side of the truck. He opened the door before I could, and putting his hands around my waist, helped me jump down.

"Are _you_ okay?" I asked, when he didn't meet my eyes, just started walking to the school.

"Yeah," he answered, holding the door for me, "I'm fine."

We walked silently through the halls, my stomach a ball of nervousness. Something was wrong with my boys, and I couldn't help thinking it was my fault. Taylor walked me right to art class, looking into the room quickly, and waiting for me to enter.

"Taylor," I said, putting my hand on his arm, "Tex…"

"I'm fine, Lyric," he said, coldly, "James will get you after class."

I mashed my lips together, and walked into the classroom, sitting down at a table, and waiting for Mrs. Brawn to give us directions.

The door opened quickly, and a breathless Garret walked into class. I looked down at the table immediately. I had gone from nervous about Kell, to more nervous about Taylor, to a complete and utter mess when faced with Garret Sorenson, my alleged guardian. I pulled my hands under the table, gripping them together as they started to shake.

 _You have no reason to be scared of him,_ I told myself, _he's a Dad for crying out loud. He's not some crazy stranger. He is your family._

Mrs. Brawn greeted Garret, who began passing out graph paper and mechanical pencils, and describing our task to design a building in the style of Frank Lloyd Wright. Most of the class barely restrained their groans, but I was intrigued.

 _Focus on this,_ I thought.

I tried to let the task take over my brain, but my pencil hovered over the blank sheet of paper. Taylor and Kell's coldness seeped into my skin like a physical thing, making me shiver. I bit my lip when I felt tears start to threaten.

 _I will not cry in school,_ _I will not cry in school._

"Hey," I heard Garret whisper next to me.

I looked over to see him squatting next to the table, his face lined in concern, "Are you okay?"

I nodded quickly, looking back down at the sheet of paper, and grabbing a ruler, started to draw the outline of a house.

His hand reached over and touched mine gently. I couldn't help the start I gave when his skin touched mine. I forced myself not to pull my hand away immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, biting my lip, "Just tired I guess."

He smiled at me sadly, clearly not believing me, "Hang out a minute after class please, Lyric," he said, smiling once more and moving onto the next student.

 _But I don't want to stay after class,_ I thought. I remembered that James would be meeting me, so I wouldn't be able to stay long anyway.

I only made the outline of a house, sloped roof, and high windows before class ended. I packed my things away and stood up, seeing that Garret and Mrs. Brawn were engaged in conversation and snuck toward the door.

"Wait a moment, please," Garret called to me, and with a quick word to Mrs. Brawn, approached me.

"Please sit," he said, gesturing toward the chair.

I sat down, immediately feeling at a disadvantage when he perched on top of the desk. I had to crane my neck to look up at him, and his body was so close to mine, I felt physically crowded.

"I'm not sure if your mother has told you, yet," Garret began seriously, "but I had her sign a temporary order of your guardianship over to me."  
I looked at him briefly and then back down again, nodding.

"I'm sure you're wondering why, when I've only met you once or twice, I would do that," he stated.

I nodded again.

"You're not very talkative for a teenager, are you?" he laughed.

I cleared my throat, feeling chastised somehow, "Sorry," I answered, looking up quickly and then down again.

He smiled widely, as if pleased with my apology and continued, "I know your mother," he said, "I know what kind of life she leads… probably hasn't changed much since high school, and when I went to see her… well… I couldn't let you stay there. You don't belong there, Lyric," he told me.

I felt my eyebrows draw together in confusion, "So why not just called Child Protective Services?" I asked.

I saw his body shift, and he stood up, pushing my chair away from the table and kneeling in front of me, placing his hands on my knees.

"I told your mother that was the next step if she didn't sign over custody to me," he replied, "and she agreed, if I gave her money."  
"Why would you do that?" I asked, slowly trying to angle my body away from his.

"I can give you a safe home, Lyric," Garret answered, his eyes burning into mine with sincerity, "You're my family. My life is predictable. Stable. My wife is expecting our second baby, and we have a two year old. You would be a tremendous help, and I think… I think it would work out well for both of us."

"I don't know…" I replied, a million questions swirling around my head, and dread still settled like a stone in my stomach.

"Lyric?" James came into the art room quickly, his shoes tapping against the floor.

Garret stood slowly, unfolding himself from his position in order to face James.

"You the boy making her sad?" he asked, his teeth clenched.

I was horrified, I had never said anything to Garret about the guys.

James's eyes widened and his face paled as his eyes met mine.

I stood up quickly, "They don't make me sad!" I argued, "I never said any such thing! Jamie!" I said, desperate for him to believe me, "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Garret countered, still staring at James, "when a girl is sad, it's usually because of a boy."

"Mr. Sorenson?" James asked, standing up even straighter, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Yes," Garret answered, his voice equally sharp.

"I thought so," James answered. He managed to instill such a tone of disdain into his voice, that even I felt his censure.

"Ready, Lyric?" James asked, switching his attention to me.

"Yes," I answered, moving my body around Garret's. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, bending at the knees to look in my eyes.

"Even if you haven't been in the past, are you being safe now?" he asked.

I felt my face flame and I looked at James, mortified. How would he take such a comment? What would Garret's insinuation mean to him?

"Enough," James said, his voice cutting through my embarrassment.

"Mr. Sorenson," he continued, effectively dismissing him.

I pulled away from Garret and turned toward James.

"Lyric," Garret called to me, "I'll be picking you up after school. I've already spoken to Mrs. Jocelin, and we both agree that you have no need of an after school job. It's time for you to concentrate on your studies and be a teenager. I'll expect you to be waiting outside of the school at 2:50."

"But…" I stammered, panicked.

"No buts," he interrupted, "please don't make me involve the police again." He stared purposefully at James, a warning to both of us.

"Lyric," James said through clenched teeth, taking my elbow gently and walking with me toward the door.

"2:50, Lyric," Garret reminded me.

I looked back once, and nodded. I didn't really have a choice.


	31. Focus

**Focus**

"Did he hurt you?" James asked me, directing me through the hall as we walked toward Calculus class.

"No," I answered, my voice shaking, "but Jamie, I can't go there. I don't want to go!"

My voice began to rise in panic.

James stopped; his eyes closed and I saw him take a huge breath.

"I…" he looked at me, his handsome face miserable, "Lyric… I think you have to go."

"I could find another place," I answered quickly, "I can take care of myself."

James turned toward me, "We're working on it, Lyric," he said, his eyes begging me to understand.

I nodded, "I don't feel right leaving you guys," I said, as we went into Calculus.

"You're late, lovelies," the teacher singsonged, "ten extra problems as homework."

"I'm sorry," I managed, sitting down quickly.

"Of course," James agreed.

"Of course," Keefe mocked from a nearby seat.

James narrowed his eyes at him, "Whatcha gonna do, Fancypants?" Keefe whispered, "Sic your dog on me?"

James ignored him and Keefe looked over at me, giving me a wink, "Hey there," Keefe whispered, "You clean up nice."

He must have seen the confused look on my face, because he snorted, and shook his head, turning around and beginning his work. I bit the eraser of my pencil, and watched Keefe's back for a moment, before copying down the problems on the board. I struggled with it. My mind focused on Kell and Taylor, and then after school, when I was expected to go to a stranger's house, and live there.

I wasn't getting the right answer, so I erased the problem and started again, biting my eraser again, before tapping my pencil on my notebook as I stared at it. I felt someone staring at me, and I looked over at James. He gave me a small smile, and looked down at my notebook. My face flushed and I tried the problem again. I just couldn't get it.

"Oh dear, Lyric," I heard my teacher's voice in my ear and I jumped, "Is this too difficult for you?"

Maybe not on any other day, but today, it was.

"I'm sorry," I said.

I felt her hand pat my shoulder, "That's okay," she said, "let's go up to the board. I'm sure if you're struggling there are more students who need help."

 _Oh no._

James looked over at me in sympathy, but I couldn't fashion a smile. I followed Mrs. Smith to the board.

"Okay, my darling ones," she called out, "Lyric is having some trouble with the first review problem. I'm going to have her start the problem on the board, and I want you to call out when you see her headed in the wrong direction!"

If Mrs. Smith wasn't so genuinely nice, I would think that she went out of her way to be purposefully cruel.

 _Stop thinking about Kell and Taylor. Stop thinking about Garret. Just think about math._

It didn't work; I lifted the dry erase marker and began to solve.

I heard Keefe call out, "Right there," he said, and started describing what I was doing wrong.

My face flaming and my hand shaking, I erased the work I had done, and started again; following the steps that Keefe called out.

"Alright, Lyric," Mrs. Smith said, "keep going, let's see what you do next."

"Don't you mean, who you do next?" I heard a whisper from behind me.

"Shut up, ass," I heard a feminine voice say.

I heard Keefe sputter, and a few voices joined the first, scolding Keefe. Mrs. Smith clapped her hands, "That's enough," she said, and looked over to me in sympathy, "why don't you sit down, Lyric. I'll come to your desk and see if I can get you sorted out."

I nodded gratefully, and met the eyes of the girl who had stood up for me. It was the nice girl who flirted with James. I smiled in thanks, and sat down, wishing my desk was a giant mouth that would swallow me whole.

I spent the rest of the class trying to concentrate on Mrs. Smith as she helped me with the problems. The bell rang and I shoved my notebooks and textbook into my bag. James held his hand out, reaching for my bag. I handed it to him, and we walked out.

"Library?" he asked.

"Yes, please," I answered, feeling cowed.

We went into the library and I saw Taylor sitting at a table, his books spread around him.

"I'll see you at lunch," he said gently, "It's going to be okay," he told me, squeezing my hands, and pulling me forward so he could enfold me in his arms before leaving.

I walked slowly toward Taylor, who didn't look at me.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked him softly, standing next to his chair.

He looked up at me briefly, before looking back down at his notebook, "If you want," he told me.

I wondered if my pain could take physical form and if everyone could see it. I pushed my finger to my teeth, drawing in a quiet shuddering breath. I didn't want him to hear it, and I turned away quickly, not wanting him to see me struggling to keep my tears at bay. I pushed a chair back and put my backpack in it.

"I need to use the computer for a moment," I whispered, my throat tight, "I'll be right back."

Taylor nodded, not looking up.

 _What had I done?_ I went over the events of the morning as thoroughly as I could. I had kept him waiting for me when I had gone to see Kell, maybe that was it. Or maybe Kell had told him that I'd gone into his room without permission, and he was angry with me. But he hadn't seemed mad until our car ride. _What had I said in the car?_ I tried to remember, we had been talking about Kell…

I honestly didn't know! _Should I ask him?_ I turned on one of the desktops, and logged into the internet to check my email and the online assignments in my classes. I ended up staring at the screen. I turned around to look at Taylor. He was staring at me, his green eyes intense, and his jaw hard. This was not the light-hearted Taylor I knew. This felt like a stranger.

Maybe it was a good thing I was leaving this afternoon. It would be better for them. I saw Taylor reach for his phone, staring at the screen before he looked up at me again.

I looked away quickly, guilty for watching him so long.

I felt his heat at my back, and then he was angling the chair away from the computer and hunching down so we were face to face.

"I'm sorry," he said to me, his eyes moving along my face and his thumb grazing along my cheekbone.

"What did I do?" I asked, my voice breaking.

He shook his head, "It was me," he replied, "my issue. I'm working on it, I promise."

"Please, Taylor," I begged, "just tell me so I don't do it again. This morning was awful. I was so worried about you."

"Crash," he said, drawing out my nickname before he ran both his fingers under my eyes. I hadn't even known I was crying. I pressed the heels of my hands on my eyes and willed them back.

"Please, Taylor?" I asked again.

He stood up, looking around, and then pulled out a chair next to me. He slid it forward until he could place both of his legs on either side of mine, effectively boxing me in. One arm went across the back of my chair, and the other one rested on the computer desk.

"I…" he started, and his face flushed. He smiled to himself, his dimples appearing, and then he shook his head, starting again, "I was, um, jealous."

I rocked back, "Huh?" I asked.

I lifted my finger to my lips, tapping them, "When did I?" and then I realized what I'd done. I had spent the entire car ride talking about Kell. I hadn't said 'thank you' to Taylor for making me breakfast, or bringing me to school. I was so self-centered.

"Oh, Taylor," I breathed, "Oh, I am so so sorry."

I was on my way to really messing up the boys' lives. Taylor was jealous of Kell? They had all been friends for who-knows-how-long. I thought Taylor was as wonderful as Kell, and James as wonderful as Taylor, and Kell as wonderful as James. However I compared the three, it came up the same, they were all so very very special to me.

And I loved them.

I didn't love one more than the other. It just seemed that Kell needed something this morning, and I wanted to find out what it was and give it to him. Maybe I shouldn't have used Taylor to alleviate my worries.

"I'm sorry," I said again, reaching forward and lightly holding his face with my hands, "I won't do it again."

Taylor shook his head, "No," he said, "I want you to talk about Kell with me. I want you to talk about James with me. Or if you needed to talk about me, I would want you to go to them. They're my brothers, in all ways that matter. I just… I guess I haven't had a lot of alone time with you, and I didn't want to use it talking about Kell."

I bit my lip, tears threatening again.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"No," he said, "no more apologies. We'll work this out together, okay?"

"Okay," I answered.

I had already recognized that I loved the boys, but seeing how hurt Taylor had been, I realized that I couldn't tell them how I felt. Taylor's reaction made me see that my feelings had the potential to ruin the friendship the boys had spent years building. I didn't know everything there was to know about the Academy, but Constance's reticence to keep us together as a family made sense, if this family broke up, it would be my fault.

* * *

Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please let me know what you think. Is it too slow? Interesting enough? Thanks for your time!


	32. Ten years later: Taylor's Point of View

**Ten years later...Taylor's Point of View**

I rubbed my hand down my face, watching the new recruits examine each piece of material in their supply box and then discuss how best to use it to help them make it over the ten foot wall. It was a team building exercise, but it was also an opportunity to identify potential Academy leaders.

One boy, he couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, and small and lanky, with black rimmed glasses and bright green eyes, listened quietly to his team. He summarize their ideas, made suggestions, and then gave each person a task.

I was impressed. He was part of a fairly large group of boys, but he didn't yell over them. He met each of their eyes, letting them know without words that he was listening to them. They were as focused on him as he was on them.

"Five minutes!" I called out, watching to see if the time crunch would make them focus or freak out.

One team ignored their supplies completely and began building a human pyramid. There was always one group that did that. The girl at the top gripped the top board, screamed, and fell backward.

Yeah, I'd greased it.

There was a supply box for a reason.

Recon people, recon is important.

One of the other girls looked up, and moved, breaking her fall. Even this team had potential, I just had to figure it out what it was.

"How's it looking, Teach?" I looked down at the bright blue-eyed gaze of one of our returning students.

"Fine," I drawled, my eyes skipping from group to group.

"Any stand-outs?" he asked.

I tilted my chin toward the boy with glasses.

"Oh yeah," Sean rubbed his hands together, "I'll have to tell Owen."  
"Reckon I already did," I told him. Little punk.

"Mind if I…?" he asked, gesturing toward the boys.

"Nope," I said, covering my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.

I was hoping he'd ask to join them. The boys looked up at the older student, their eyes widening with excitement. I saw Sean kneel next to them, and they began to excitedly tell him their plan. Sean nodded, and stepped back, watching them put their plan into action.

They didn't ignore the supplies in the box.

It took them less time to build than to discuss, and they were up and over the wall in a matter of seconds.

"Well done!" I called out, "Now, y'all can take a page from Mr. Lee's notebook. Listen to your teammates! Y'all are equal. No one member carries more responsibility than another!"

I ran my hands through my hair, thinking about my own team, and had to take a breath and clear my throat, "Okay. Next obstacle. Move it!"

The teams jumped into action, running to the next obstacle, while I waited for the next group to show up at my station.

"How are you doing Taylor?" I looked over and saw Dr. Roberts.

I gave him a smile, "Fine," I answered, more genuinely than I had Sean.

"How's your team?" he asked, "I haven't seen you for a while. Not since you all moved south."

My eyes narrowed and I felt a lump in my throat.

My team.

"We're doin' alright, Doc," I said honestly, "Some days are harder than others, but…" I shrugged and scraped a hand across my face again.

He clapped me on my shoulder, "You're doing a good thing here, Taylor. You and your team. The Academy needed you, and we needed your forgiveness. We're human. We make mistakes."

But what a mistake.

"I know Doc," I answered quietly, glad to hear the chatter of incoming recruits, "Now if you'll excuse me?"

He nodded at me, walking away to the next station.

"Welcome!" I called out when the teams had assembled, "I am your Instructor for this portion of the course…"


	33. Two Princes

**Two Princes**

I stood up and looked out the window at the same time as Garret. I expected to see the boys, but the men that were leaving their car parked in the driveway weren't people I knew. Garret looked at me briefly, and I shrugged. I could see what Marie meant about them being princes. One had a shock of white blonde hair, and if a man could walk regally and still be manly, that was how he moved.

Garret made it to the door and opened it before they could knock.

"Mr. Sorenson?" I heard one ask, his voice accented.

"Yes," Garret replied.

"I am Hans Kaiser and this is Philip Emeer. We were wondering if you had time to speak with us about your recent court appointed guardianship of the minor Lyric Sorenson."

Garret glanced at me quickly, "Just a moment," he told them, and looking at me said, "Please stay here."

"If it's about me, shouldn't I know?" I asked.

I saw a man peek his head around the corner, "Yes," he answered me.

"No," Garret answered firmly, "she's a minor, as you said, and in my custody. I decide what she is a part of. Stay here," he directed me, and left the house, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Did you see the princes?" Marie asked, and went to the bay window, jumping up and pulling herself until she could prop her body on the deep sill, "I like the one with the brown hair. He looks like the boy from Sleeping Beauty."

I walked over to the window, and looked out. I could see the men talking to Garret, who stood with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, shaking his head. One of the men, the one from Sleeping Beauty, held out some paper to Garret, who reluctantly uncrossed his arms and took them. I saw him flip through them hurriedly and then start arguing. I couldn't make out what he was saying, though I could hear his raised voice. The men were unperturbed at his outburst, as if they saw grown men throw fits everyday.

Finally Garret threw the papers up in the air, and pointed his finger into the man's chest, his face red and angry. I saw the blonde man move forward neatly, and I wondered if Garret recognized that these men were poised to defend themselves if he continued his aggression.

In an instant, he seemed to deflate, and stepped back. Both men stepped forward and said something to Garret that made him slouch. He gave a nod, and I heard the door open, "Lyric," Garret called, "can you come out here a moment?"

Marie looked at me, wide-eyed, "The princes want you," she said.

I smiled at her, and walked out of the house. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and crossed my arms, propping one hand to tap my finger against my lips.

"Miss Sorenson," Hans, the blonde, said, "my colleague and I represent the school to which you were recently accepted."  
My eyes widened and my heart started pounding, hopeful that they had come to take me away.

"When the school was informed of the change in you guardianship, we were asked to contact your new guardian and let him know of your enrollment."

I felt a crash of disappointment. That was all? They were just here to tell Garret I had been accepted into the Academy?

"Mr. Sorenson has objected to your school placement, and so we were asked to make sure that your continued enrollment was part of a court order. We were letting Mr. Sorenson know that a judge has agreed with the school and that your best educational placement is at the Academy," Hans finished.

"It is unnecessary," Garret argued, stepping forward again and putting his hand on my shoulder, "there is a perfectly adequate school nearby. Lyric is participating in accelerated classes and is on track to graduate early. She needs to stay with us, her family."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Sorenson," Philip interjected, "the judge has agreed with us. And as such, Lyric will be expected on-campus at the start of the new semester in December. You will be allowed her guardianship, but a new educational surrogate is assigned to make decisions that have to do with Lyric's educational placement."

"What?" Garret said, his fingers digging into my shoulder. I tried to step away, but he held me tighter, pulling me back until my back bumped into his chest. I winced at the feel of his fingers digging into my collarbone; hard enough that I wondered if I'd have bruises.

Hans' eyes glanced down to Garret's hand and his eyes narrowed, "Miss Sorenson," he said, "I would like to show you the judge's order. Please follow me."  
I stepped away from Garret, who let me go after a brief squeeze. I followed him to his car, rubbing at my collarbone and shoulder as I walked.

Hans opened the door and pulled out a document, handing it to me, "Please just look it over as I speak, Lyric," he told me, pointing to something on the paper.

In my hand was the court order, and I began to look it over.

"Are you hurt?" he asked me, surprising me.

I shook my head, "Not really."

I glanced up at him, and he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. His eyes were like ice.

"So far, December is the soonest we can get you out of here," he explained, watching me closely, "but we are trying every method at our disposal to get you out sooner."

"Can't I just go back to…" I started.

"You can't go to McInnish's," he interrupted, "you're a minor and there is no adult there, even if…" He paused, thoughtful.

"Let us work on it," he said again, "just…" he looked over at Garret, "be careful. Contact the McInnish team if anything goes wrong, or makes you uncomfortable."

"If I said I was uncomfortable now, could you get me out of here?" I asked.

"Are you?" he asked.

I nodded, "Nothing's happened," I said, being honest, "but I just… I feel like something might."

"Scheiße," he said under his breath, "we will do everything we can, Lyric. I promise."

"Okay," I said, giving him a small smile, "thank you. Whatever happens. Thank you for trying."

He smiled at me, and made a move as if he was going to touch my arm, when I heard the low rumble of a motorcycle.

Hans looked over his shoulder and smiled before putting his glasses back on, "Ah, yes," he said, "this is the other thing I forgot to mention to Mr. Sorenson."

I looked over my shoulder at Garret, whose eyes were fixed on me like a laser. His eyes were narrowed, and he looked very very angry. His gaze shifted as Hans approached him and I turned back around to watch _my_ prince approach.

It turned out that the louder of engine of Kell's motorcycle was masking the sound of Taylor's truck.

All the boys had arrived.

I watched them approach. Kell's eyes fixed on mine and he didn't look away, just rested his helmet on the handlebars and stalked to me. I heard the doors of Taylor's truck slam and looked over. Both Taylor and James were striding to me. I bit my lip to keep from smiling and then gave up, walking quickly to meet them.

"Kell," I said happily.

"Priya," he answered, holding out his hand.

I reached for his hand, "Lyric!" Garret called me, making me jump and look over my shoulder.

Kell stared at him angrily, his dark face turning a dusky rose color.

"Hey Crash," Taylor said jovially, coming up to me, and wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

I smiled up at him, and watched James approach. He looked stressed, but smiled at me.

"Jamie," I said, reaching out for his hand and lacing my fingers with his, "Are you okay?"

He moved closer to me, "I am now," he whispered.

"Lyric!" Garret called again, "come over here please. "

James didn't let go of my hand and Taylor squeezed me gently. It was amazing how differently I reacted to their touch. They were considerate and their touches felt reassuring. They didn't use them to keep me somewhere, or hold me in place.

Kell walked next to us. Hans and Philip regarded us curiously, but Garret was looking daggers.

Philip cleared his throat, "I was just letting Mr. Sorenson know that part of the court order requires tutoring each day, so you will not be behind in your classes."

"Since James, Kell, and Taylor are also enrolled, and share classes with you, they will tutor you," Hans added.

Garret sputtered, "Where is this supposed to happen?" he asked, "my wife needs to rest and Lyric has agreed to babysit. I don't want three loud boys in my house with my wife and daughter while I'm not home."

"Of course not," Hans answered, "we recognize that this could be a hardship for your family, and would compensate you in such a way that you could hire a different babysitter. Lyric could study at school with these gentlemen, or she could go to their house."

"She's not going to their house!" he cried, "three teenage boys with one girl?!"

He stopped. He was breathing heavily and I saw a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He closed his eyes as if to focus and calm himself, "I'll need to think about this. I understand it's court ordered. I just want what's best for Lyric."

"As do we," Hans reiterated, "we will be in touch soon. At that time you can inform us of how you are meeting the court's stipulations. Until then, good day."  
I heard Taylor snort, "Good day gentlemen," he said, his face creasing into a smile.

"Get into the house, Lyric," Garret ordered, staring at the boys, "I'm going to have a discussion with your tutors," he sneered the last word, his lips curling as he regarded them.

"I…" I argued.

"Get in!" he said, his voice low and harsh.

I looked over at James. He nodded once, and squeezed my hand, letting me go. I looked at each of the boys, my eyes lingering on them as long as they could, before I went inside and the door was shut behind me.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading. Please review and comment! They are much appreciated!_


	34. Waiting, Wishing, and Hoping

**Waiting, Wishing, Hoping**  
"Which prince was yours?" Marie asked, still looking out the window when I walked in.

"Um," I hesitated, then answered, "the last three."

Marie's head whipped toward me, "All three?" she asked.

I nodded, "They're all my friends."

She shrugged, crawling off the window sill and going back to her kitchen, "Can we play now?"

I nodded, feeling bad that she'd been alone in the house. I had spent a lot of time by myself, probably at the same age as her, and I felt guilty that I had gotten caught up in my own drama and ignored a her. It felt reminiscent of my mother.

I sat on the floor, and let Marie pour me tea and bake me hamburger cake pizza cookies, and waited for the boys. I couldn't imagine that they would leave without saying goodbye, but I also couldn't imagine that Garret would let them inside.

The door finally opened, and Taylor peeked his head inside, "Hey Crash," he said, smiling at me, and coming inside.

"Hey," I said quietly, biting my lip to keep from smiling so widely.

"We can't stay," he began, his eyes full of some unnamable emotion.

"You can't?" My voice broke and I cleared my throat.

"Naw," he replied, shaking his head, "but we'll be back, after this little lady goes to bed. We'll get you for a study session."

Marie offered Taylor a cookie, and he took it, pretending to eat it when she gave him a _well? what are you waiting for?_ expression.

"It's delicious," he told her, "best cookie I ever had. Thank you."

"You're a prince," she told him, taking back the cookie, "not a cowboy." She glared at him angrily.

Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"I'll explain later," I told him, "So what time will you be back?" I asked.

"About eight," he answered, "but, will you do me a favor Crash, and keep this on you?" He gave me a phone, "Our numbers are already programmed into it. Use it if you need it. For anything."

I heard the door open, and saw Garret, "Enough," he stated coldly.

I took the phone, and put it in my back pocket, "Thanks," I told him, "I'll see you later."

He nodded, and tapped me on the head before standing up and walking to the door. Garret glared at him, and didn't immediately move when Taylor got to the door.

They stood for a moment, both of them regarding each other. Garret was tall, but he was nowhere near as muscular as Taylor. Standing right next to him, I was stuck by the difference between the two. While Garret was obviously angry, Taylor seemed to hold himself with dignity in the face of that anger. He didn't back down, but continued to face Garret. Finally, Garret stepped to the side, and Taylor passed, giving me one quick look over his shoulder, before Garret slammed the door behind him.

He walked angrily to the couch, not looking at me or Marie, but gathered up his laptop, snapping it shut.

"I'll be in my office," he said, "dinner's on your own," he finished, and left.

I looked over at Marie, and then pulled the phone out of my pocket, looking at the time. I still had hours until the boys would get me.

"Do you want to make me dinner?" Marie asked.

"Sure," I told her, moving to stand.

"Not that dinner," she said, "here!"

I smiled and started gathering some play food, making her a triple stacked ice cream cone with her wooden food, and some cut up sushi with her other pretend food.

"How's this?" I asked, putting it in front of her.

She nodded, sticking the velcro sides of the sushi back together and then cutting it up again.

We spent the next hour playing in her kitchen. I was amazed that she could play at one area so long. When I babysat Cam, we moved between five or six different games, but Marie would play, put her food away, and start the game over again. She acted much older than her age, and at times, it seemed as if I didn't even need to be there, that she was perfectly happy playing alone.

"Can I make you real food now?" I asked her, when after looking down at my phone for the millionth time, I saw that it was nearly five thirty.

"Can you make me pizza?" she asked.

I tapped my finger on my lips, "I don't know," I told her, "Let's go see what we can find. Maybe you can help me?"

She smiled broadly, "Okay!" she answered.

She followed me into the kitchen while I rifled through cupboards and the fridge. I found English muffins, spaghetti sauce, and mozzarella sticks. I wondered if I would get in trouble for going through their cupboards, but I hadn't heard a peep from Marie's mom, nor had Garret come out of his office, and Marie had to be getting hungry.

I got a chair from the dining room table, and turning it around so the back faced the countertop, I helped Marie up. She used her fingers to split the muffin, and then helped me scoop the sauce and spread it on top. I unwrapped a few mozzarella sticks and Marie peeled them apart before ripping them in half and laying them across the muffins.

"What do you think?" I asked, after we had transferred the muffins onto a baking sheet.

"Mini pizza!" she told me, clearly satisfied with her work, "yum!"

I put the pizza in the oven, and turned to Marie, "What do you want to do while we wait?" I asked.

She lifted her hand to her face and tapped her chin with her finger like I had been doing earlier. I smothered a smile and waited.

"Color?" she asked, and climbed off the stool, running into her room and coming back with a coloring book.

I had never seen a two year old focus on coloring before, but she sat down, took out her crayons, and got to work.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and pulled it out.

My face creased into a smile when I saw who it was.

James: _How are you?_

Me: _Ok. Miss you._

James: _Not the same without you._

Me: _3 more hours._

James: _Can't wait._

Taylor: _Crash._

Me: _Tex._

Taylor: _Hey._

Me: _Hey back._

Taylor: _Come to my game on Friday._

Me: _Are you asking?_

Taylor: _Did you see a question mark?  
_

Me: …

Taylor: _Come to my game on Friday._

Me: …

Taylor: _Please._

Me: _I'd love to._

Kell: _Please forgive me._

Me: _Nothing to forgive._

Kell: _Please._

Me: _Please talk to me. I want to help._

Kell: _I want to._

Me: _Then do. I can listen. I have ears._

Kell: _Priya…_

Me: _My Kell…_

Kell: _I love that._

Me: _Tonight?_

Kell: _I don't know. I will try._

Me: _I will listen whenever…_

Kell: _I wish you were home._

Me: _Me too. I miss you all, so much._

Kell: _We miss you too._

I waited to see if he would text any further, but that was the last message. The timer on the microwave went off, and I pulled Marie's dinner out of the oven. I had made enough for her and I, or Garret or Kate, if they came to dinner. I fed Marie first, getting a glass of milk from the gallon jug in the refrigerator and waited. I wasn't very comfortable eating their food, so I figured the milk would fill me up.

"Hey Ladies," Garret's voice came to us from the hall.

He appeared to be over his anger, and was back to smiling broadly, "Is that dinner I smell?"

Marie nodded, her mouth full of English muffin, "Lyric made pizza."

"Yum," Garret said, sitting down next to me before grabbing one and taking a bite, "It's good! Thank you."

"You're welcome," I replied.

I heard footsteps on the steps, "I smell food," Kate said, a smile in her voice, "do you cook too?"

"It's not much," I answered, as Kate grabbed some plates from the cabinet and put them in front of her and Garret.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable watching them as they ate.

Kate plopped down in a chair next to me, and sighed, "Would you? That would be great. Just water, please."

I looked at Garret, "Soda, please. They're in the fridge."

I got Kate a water, and put it in front of her, before going to the fridge to find a soda for Garret.

"Want a glass?" I asked after pulling it out.

He shook his head and I put the soda in front of him. I picked up my empty glass from the table and brought it to the sink, washing it out and putting it in the dish drainer.

"Sit with us, Lyric," Kate called over, "I know you're done, but keep us company."

I looked longingly up the steps, and Kate caught my glance, "Oh my goodness," she said, "you haven't even had a chance to unpack. I'm sorry. Last door on the right, across from Marie."

"Thank you," I said to her, noticing that Garret was frowning at me, but I returned Kate's smile and went up the stairs.

I paused at the top of the darkened hallway, looking for a light when I heard raised voices from the kitchen.

"She's not the help, Kate," Garret said, "she could sit with us."

"I invited her, Garret," Kate replied, "you heard me."

"I heard you send her to her room," he retorted.

"Are you insane?" Kate asked, her voice getting louder, "what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I heard Garret answer.

"Mommy," Marie called, her little voice clear, "Lyric has three princes."

I heard Kate laugh, "Oh really? Tell me."

"That's enough, Marie," Garret scolded, "Grown-ups were talking."

"Oh my God Garret," Kate continued, "enough, already!"

I heard a chair slam and then I heard footsteps, I jumped, moving quickly down the hall until I got to the room Kate told me was mine. I closed the door quickly, and rested my back against it.

I jumped again when I heard a quick quiet knock.

"Yes?" I asked, knowing full well it was Garret.

"Lyric," Garret's voice was soft, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear him, "Open the door please."

I hesitated.

"Lyric," Garret said again, "please open the door."

I sighed, and turned around, opening the door and standing in the opening.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, running his hand through his hair and giving me a guilty smile, "you didn't need to leave the dinner table."

I shook my head, "That's okay," I said, "I really did want to unpack. I'll go soon anyway for my study session."

His face darkened, and his lips tightened. One hand gripped the doorway and the other still held the knob. I heard the wood protest as his hand squeezed the wood frame.

"I expect you back by ten," he said, his face serious.

Ten seemed early when they were only arriving at eight. He must have seen my thoughts clearly on my face because he repeated, "Ten, Lyric."

I nodded, moving to close the door, "Okay," I answered.

He stopped the door, his hand still on the knob, "I'm really glad you're here," he told me.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to be here, but he had only been nice. Weird, but nice.

"Thank you," I answered, after I had run other possible responses through my head. Thank you seemed like the vaguest response that wouldn't offend him.

He smiled at me widely, reaching for my face with his hand. I pulled back quickly. I didn't like him touching me whenever he wanted. He frowned, but dropped his hand and closed the door.

I pulled out my phone, checking the time. God. Time was moving so incredibly slow. I wondered what the boys were doing. If they had finished their homework, or if they were waiting for me. I wondered if they really expected me to do homework with them, because I was actually finished mine earlier in the week. I saw the suitcase that James had brought and lifted it onto the bed and unzipped it. I placed my new phone carefully on a bedside table where I could see it.

I flipped the top of the suitcase over, and peered inside. Someone had neatly packed it. I felt tears gather in my eyes when I pictured the boys gathering up my toiletries and folding my clothes for me. In truth, everything they had packed me were things that they had bought for me.

After removing my toiletry bag I saw some unfamiliar t-shirts. I unfolded the first one and laughed out loud.

It had a picture of a dinosaur wearing a mortar board with the words "philosoraptor." I brought it to my nose and smelled it.

James.

This belonged to James.

I unfolded another one. It was a plain white t-shirt. I brought that to my face and smelled pine and smoke.

Kell.

I didn't expect to see a third t-shirt, since Taylor had already given me his Kentucky t-shirt, but there was another one. I stared at it, confused. There was a picture of a fox on it, and then written over it, "zero given."

Huh?

I would have to ask Taylor to explain his shirt later. I brought it to my nose. It smelled like Taylor, too. I grabbed all three of the t-shirts and wrapped my arms around them, pulling them into my face, before tucking them back into my suitcase. I hoped their smells would rub off on my clothes, so that when I slept or got changed I would smell them on me.

My phone lit up, and I walked over quickly and picked it up.

It read "Taylor," and there was an internet address. I pressed on the link and it led me to youtube. The video started, "11 Dogs Feeling Guilty." I chuckled and got on the bed, resting against the pillows and watching the video.

My phone continued to vibrate and when I paused the video, I saw that each of the boys had sent me a link to something. I felt tears run down my cheeks and into my hair. I wiped them quickly. They were trying to distract me. To keep me occupied until they could get me.

I finished the dog video and opened Kell's. It was a music video for a song I didn't recognize. I didn't recognize the artist either, but her song was whimsical and silly: _do you remember that one time we decided to kiss anywhere except the mouth?_ I felt my cheeks heat, and I was immediately thinking of kissing Kell, which led me to think about kissing James, which then led me to think about kissing Taylor.

What was wrong with me?

I couldn't kiss any of them. They were my family. Family didn't make out!

I grabbed the pillow and covered my face with it, groaning before throwing it aside. Finally, I pulled up James' link. It opened to an app and began to download an audiobook, "Me Talk Pretty One Day." I didn't recognize the author, but I couldn't wait to listen to it since he had picked it out for me.

They had all done something to take my mind off of being away from them. I don't know if that was their plan; if they had made it together or if they had decided individually what to do. But each one of them had managed to make me smile.

And when I checked the clock, it was almost eight.


	35. Beaches at Night

**Beaches at Night**

I didn't have a window that looked out on the driveway, so I stood at my bedroom door, backpack on my back and phone in my hand, ready to leave. I heard the doorbell ring, and I was out my door and down the stairs in seconds, but still, Garret beat me there. He threw me a glance that clearly said, "wait there," and opened the door.

"Hello Mr. Sorenson." It was Taylor.

I wondered if Taylor was the designated go-between. From what Garret had said, I knew that he was prejudiced against Kell, and he and James had already had a confrontation in my art class. Perhaps Taylor had been identified as the person who would offend Garret the least.

"Taylor," Garret greeted coldly.

I stepped forward, but he shot me a look again.

"I expect her home by ten," he warned.

"That's fine," Taylor answered smoothly.

"Where will you be studying?" Garret asked, "I need a number so I can reach you."

"I have a phone now," I offered, "I can give you the number."

"How do you have a phone?" Garret asked, turning toward me and looking at me suspiciously.

"I…" I started, looking at Taylor for help.

"It's from The Academy," Taylor answered, "in case they have questions about classes or enrollment."

Garret didn't looked pleased. He was so hot and cold; either trying to be my best friend or scolding me for poor choices. It was making me even more anxious than I usually was; I felt as if I was walking on eggshells.

I found my number on the phone and rattled it off to Garret, who inputted it into his phone.

"Ten," he reminded me.

"I know," I answered, stepping forward, wanting to get to Taylor as soon as I could, but Garret stopped me with a hand on my shoulder .

"Be safe," he said seriously, and wrapped me in a hug.

My arms hung loosely at my sides and I tried to step away, but he mashed me closer to his chest. I felt him kiss the top of my head before his arms released me and I could step away. My face was flaming and my entire body felt tight, like I was trying to escape from my skin. I nodded at Garret, but he wasn't looking at me, he was eyeing Taylor triumphantly.

Taylor had never looked so angry. His face was red, as if he was holding his breath, and his hands were clenched into fists. He'd stepped into the house, and I wondered if he had been ready to pull me away from Garret.

I stepped up to him, "Tex?"

He glanced down at me, and nodded, snaking his arm around my shoulders and turning me. I heard the door close behind us as Taylor marched us to the idling car. In the illumination of the porch light, I could see both Kell and James in the car. Their faces reflected the same anger I'd seen on Taylor's. He opened the door for me, and slid in next to me, wrapping me up in his arms and holding me closely before sitting me back and buckling me in.

"We need to chat, Crash," Taylor said seriously, "the four of us have some things to discuss."

"Okay," I said nervously, wondering if this was where they told me they weren't interested in having me in their family; if I wasn't worth the trouble.

I clasped my hands together tightly in my lap, and felt my stomach churn, the milk I'd had for dinner threatening sourly.

James pulled into a parking lot, and I recognized Mother's Beach. He came around and opened the door for me, while Kell grabbed a blanket from the trunk, and Taylor a cooler. Despite the way they moved in synchrony, there was an underlying nervousness in their actions.

Kell led the way to the sand, and James held my hand, helping down the rocks until we could sit on the blanket Kell had situated on the small strip of sand left at high tide. The sky was clear and the moon reflected on the water. Every so often a car would drive by, but the only light was from nearby cottages and the moon. It felt private, but not isolating. A blanket covered my shoulders and I looked gratefully at Taylor. I had forgotten to wear the coat that they bought me last weekend, instead wearing a heavy fisherman's sweater.

I waited for them to speak, watching as they exchanged glances with each other. James sat next to me on one side, his knee touching mine; while Taylor and Kell faced me, Taylor's knee against mine and Kell's against Taylor and James. We made a tight circle, with Taylor and Kell blocking most of the wind coming off the ocean.

"We need to talk to you about our family," James began.

I felt myself tense. I fully expected him to say, "and we don't want you in it."

He cleared his throat once and looked at the other boys, before closing his eyes tightly and opening them again, "We love you, Lyric," he said in a rush, so it sounded like ,"weloveyoulyric."

 _Wait. They... What?_

I was clearly misunderstanding them, and assumed I'd missed the part of the speech about leaving me, "But?" I prompted.

James looked at Taylor and Kell, who seemed confused.

"What do you mean?" James asked, "I love you."

Kell moved closer, his eyes blazing at me, "I love you, Lyric," he said, taking my hand.

"I love you, Crash," Taylor said, leaning forward, a gleam in his eyes, "I loved you since I saw you covered in mud."

They couldn't possibly be saying what I hoped they were saying.

"Like a sister, though, right?" I asked bravely.

Taylor and James shook their heads vigorously, while Kell said simply, "No."

"You love me?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around their declaration, "Me? Like… me. Me." I pointed to my chest in disbelief, "and not like a sister."

"We love you," Kell reiterated, and then looked in confusion at Taylor and James, "Is this an American thing? Are we being unclear? What am I doing wrong?" He seemed genuinely lost.

"It's not…" I started, "I… Okay. You love me," I pointed at Taylor, "and you love me," I pointed at James, "and you love me, too," I ended at Kell, "And none of you love me like a sister. So that means you love me like…"

"Like a girlfriend," Taylor interrupted.

"No," Kell said, "more than a girlfriend. Deeper than that."

I looked at James, "We love you," he said seriously, his face silver in the moonlight while his golden eyes had darkened to nearly black, "We all love you and we all want to be with you." His hand moved tentatively to my face, cupping my cheek gently and rubbing my cheekbone with his thumb.

I didn't move.

I turned toward James and stared at him, but felt the heat of another body move closer, and then soft lips with a hint of stubble pressed against my neck. I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering closed. I could smell pine and smoke, and then a hand was stroking down my hair.

"Do you think you could love us too, Lyric?" James asked me, moving closer until his lips were a breath away from mine, "Could you love us the way we love you?"

My heart felt lighter than it ever had before, and I couldn't help my smile, "I already do."


	36. Declarations

**Declarations**

I had never been in love before and in my rare fantasies about love, I had never imagined loving three guys.

But I did.

I loved each one of them. It was as if my heart was an infinite space, stretching vastly in dimensions my mind couldn't fathom, and yet I knew I had managed to fill it with love.

A different sort of future stretched in front of me; I was fifteen, and maybe people would claim I couldn't know my own heart, but I did. It was twinkling with stars and joy and hope, with emotions I hadn't felt before meeting the boys. They had somehow gifted that to me.

"I love you," I told them, looking at each of them.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage.

"I love you James," I said, staring at his eyes and leaning forward, pressing a light kiss to his lips before drawing back.

"I love you Taylor," I said, smiling and meeting his eyes. He had a wicked smile on his face and cupped the back of my neck, pulling me forward and kissing me.

I took a deep breath and looked at Kell, who's face was alight, and who looked younger than I'd ever seen him look before, "I love you Kell," I told him, and leaned toward him. His eyes roamed my face and he smiled broadly. I stopped a millimeter from his lips, and he closed the gap, kissing me firmly while trailing his hand down my arm and making my skin break out in goosebumps.

"Do we really have to study?" I asked plaintively, when I finally opened my eyes.

Kell husked a laugh, looking toward James, who shook his head, and smiled, "No," he said, "I don't think tonight is a night for studying."

I felt a sudden wave of nerves and excitement course through my body, and I closed my eyes and fisted my hands against an unfamiliar ache pulsing in me. A cool burst of air swept over me, and I shivered.

"Come here," James commanded, and I moved to him. He pulled me into his body so I faced the water and leaned back against his chest. I could feel his breath tickle my ear. Kell and Taylor turned their bodies toward the water as well, each reaching toward me in order to touch me. I interlaced my fingers with Taylor's. When James' knee got in the way of Kell's arm, he sighed dramatically, but James automatically adjusted his body to make room for him, and Kell turned sideways so he could rest his head on my thigh.

"Good idea man," Taylor said, and James moved his long leg so that Taylor could lie his head on my other thigh.

"Who knew a head weighed so much," I said, my fingers playing in the curls on Kell's forehead and brushing the wrong way against Taylor's stubble.

Taylor snorted and James leaned past me and punched him in the arm, "Don't be an ass," he scolded.

"We're trying to woo her," Kell added.

I giggled. James leaned his head into my neck, kissing me until he reached my ear, "Something funny?" he asked.

I shook my head. Taylor grabbed my hand, and kissed the palm noisily, "Spill, Crash."

I shook my head again, not wanting to embarrass Kell; but who said 'woo' anymore?

"I think I'm adequately wooed," I answered, "In fact, you can consider me 'won.'"

I felt Kell's head shake back and forth against my thigh, "No, Priya," he told me, "the wooing doesn't end with the winning."

"Can you please stop saying 'woo'?" Taylor begged suddenly, "or I am taking your man-card."

"Fine," Kell responded drily, "court."

"No," James answered, "I would have let you say that a year ago…"

"What' s wrong with court?" I asked, picturing Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre.

"Nothing," Kell answered, sitting up, and kissing me, "we will woo, court, win, plight our troth, pursue, chase, date, marry, whatever… you."

"Whatever?" Taylor joked, sitting up as well and waggling his eyebrows wickedly.

I could just imagine Kell blushing, even if I couldn't see his cheeks stained pink.

"Enough," James interjected, "We have other things to talk about right now."

Taylor and Kell sat up, and I could feel the change in their demeanors and bodies, a tension that had disappeared now reappeared.

"We're looking at an enrollment time of early December, late November for the Academy," James said, "but I think we all agree that Sorenson's is not a place we want Lyric unsupervised."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

The boys exchanged a glance before James started speaking, "We want to install cameras," James said, watching me closely for a reaction, "we want to be able to access them remotely so we can check in on you."

I nodded, thinking about what that would mean for me, but also, I realized that whatever weirdness I was getting from Garret, they were picking up on, too. I wasn't crazy.

I tapped my finger to my chin, "Yes," I answered, "please."

Taylor looked surprised, "Are you sure, Crash? We want them everywhere, it's the only way we can deal with you being in that house."

"Put them everywhere," I answered, "but maybe…" I said thoughtfully, "there's a way that we can…" I felt my face flush as I imagined jumping into the shower.

James cleared his throat, "Your phone," he started, "do you have it?"

I nodded, and pulled it out, pressing a button so it would light up.

James took it and from me and pulled me back tighter against his chest, while he held it in front of us.

"This app here," he said, pressing one, opening it up so I could see what it looked like, "it's a way to contact each of us immediately."

He opened pressed a button labeled, 'James,' that had three colored buttons, "If there is an emergency, if you're unsure if there's an emergency, or if you're just feeling uncomfortable, you hit any of these buttons and we'll come to you."

"Even if I'm not at home?" I asked.

"We've enabled features on the phone that will help us find you, as long as the phone is on or near you, we can get to you."

I couldn't begin to explain the relief that I felt knowing they could find me; I had people to count on beside myself and my cobbled together safety plans. I took in a huge shuddery breath, and I felt my eyes well with tears.

 _Oh no._

I didn't want to cry, or for the boys to mistake my tears for upset, when it was really due to happiness.

"Priya?" Kell asked, his voice worried.

Of course Kell would be the first to notice, he was tuned into my emotions almost as closely as I was to his.

My throat closed up and I couldn't answer.

"Lyric," Taylor asked worriedly.

I held up a finger, asking for a moment, but with each passing second, I became more and more overwhelmed. The happiness I felt before, and the joy I was now feeling at the idea of being kept safe, was a physical thing.

"Lyric," Taylor said again, quieter this time. I saw him look at James, whose arms released me so Taylor could pull me onto his lap.

He pressed his lips against my head and tightened his arms against me. I could smell sunscreen and the musk of his deodorant, and realized he probably hadn't gone to soccer practice, or if he had, he'd come right to my house after getting ready for it.

Kell's face came into my line of sight, "We're going to keep you safe," he said, "we only have a month, at most, before we're all together again. We can do this."

The confidence in his tone gave me the ability to speak again, "No one has ever cared for me before," I said, trying to be completely honest, "before James stopped to help me on the road, no one cared if I was alive, or hurt, cold, or scared, or fed…"

Kell's face hardened and Taylor's arms tightened around my body, "Crash," Taylor breathed and I felt him press his lips against me again.

"Things like this," I started, turning my head to see James again, "they don't happen to people like me."

James's lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, "I wish we had found you earlier, Lyric," he said, almost like he was apologizing.

I shook my head, "You found me," I reassured him, them, myself, "we only have good things to look forward to now."

I felt Kell's calloused fingers grip my own and bring them to his lips. He nibbled the tips, "I have lots of good things planned for you," I heard James whisper in my ear.

The strange ache, the one that had only appeared tonight, began in my body again, and a sense of anticipation ran through me.

"I can't wait," I answered.

* * *

 _Thank you everyone- for reading. Please comment and let me know what you think!_


	37. Surprise Sleepover

**Surprise Sleepover**

I held on tight to James, clutching his hand to my chest as he drove me through the quiet streets. Kell and Taylor were silent. We had left the beach wrapped around each other; arms wrapped around arms wrapped around waists. They passed me from one boy to another, each person laying claim to me in a soft caress or a gentle squeeze before settling me into the front seat next to James. Every so often I would feel my hair stroked or my shoulder squeezed. It was clear to me when it was Kell or Taylor, I didn't even have to look back, but I did. I wanted to see their eyes or catch a glimpse of their face in the lights from an oncoming car to a streetlight.

James had driven slowly, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to go to Garret and Kate's. It wasn't my house and it wasn't my family, even if there was a blood connection between Garret and I.

 _One month,_ I told myself, _I can do this for one more month._

James pulled off onto the side of the road when we got into town. I looked around, confused.

"I forgot something, Lyric," James said, looking into the rearview mirror.

I turned around to look at the boys in the back.

"Will you lock your door to your bedroom?" he asked me, "just to be safe?"

"And put something on the door knob that will wake you up if it opens," Kell added.

"Or throw a chair in front of it; something someone would trip over," Taylor finished.

I nodded, feeling even more worried than I had before. They thought that Garret's behavior was suggestive of something inappropriate. I hadn't wanted to name the thing I was feeling, but that was it. I felt like he was flirting with me. I didn't feel like he was a worried cousin or a concerned family member. I felt like he was one of my mom's old boyfriends. The ones who put their fists through walls and yelled at her about flirting with the bartender or accused her of wanting to sleep with their friends.

"I'll lock the door," I told James, "and balance something on the door knob or throw a chair down or something he would trip over."

James leaned forward, taking my head in his hands, "Did he say something else to you? Do something else?"

"No," I answered.

"I fucking hate this James," Taylor said from the back seat.

James let go of my head and turned to look at Taylor, "Soon," he said, "we can do this."

He turned around and put the car back into drive, and before long we were pulling into the driveway at Garret's with minutes to spare.

The lights were on above the door and shone into the driveway. I noticed that James parked near the end of the driveway, far enough away that the car remained shrouded in darkness. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around.

"Be safe, Priya," Kell whispered, kissing me gently on the cheek.

He pulled away and Taylor took his place, kissing the corner of my mouth, his lips firm and cool, "See you Crash."

I turned to face James. He looked like he wore the weight of the world on his shoulders. "James?" I asked, putting my hand over his where he held the steering wheel.

"I'll see you soon Lyric," he said, and flipping my hand in his brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it.

I could feel the slight stubble from his face, but his lips were cool and soft.

"Goodnight, James." I said, before looking into the back at Taylor and Kell, "Goodnight."

I got out of the car quickly, before James could come around and open the door. He stood, elbow perched on the car door, one foot out and one foot in the car. I walked quickly to the door, looking at him once, before gripping the knob.

The door swung open, "Lyric," Garret said, standing aside so I could pass by him.

"Goodnight Garret," I said tiredly, and walked past him, up the stairs and into my room. I didn't look back at the car and I didn't look back at Garret.

I closed the door behind me, feeling around for a lock. It had one of those center buttons that I had to push in to lock a door; if I turned the knob, the door unlocked automatically. I pressed my ear to the door, listening for Garret's footsteps. Sure enough, they padded down the hall, and stopped in front of my door.

"Daddy?" I heard Marie call.

He didn't answer, but I could sense he was still outside my door.

"Da-ddy!" Marie called louder and more demanding.

I heard him walk away and the door to her room open; muffled voices filtering through to me. I pressed my shoulder against the door, waiting. I needed to use the bathroom, but I didn't want to go out there until he was in his room. I was pretty quick and pretty quiet, so I thought I could make it from the bedroom to the bathroom without being intercepted. I thought longingly of my bedroom back at James' house; it had a solid door, and an attached bathroom. I realized I would be taking showers at school again and sighed. I had enjoyed the long uninterrupted showers as long as I could.

Marie's door opened and closed again and the footsteps came back to my door.

"Garret?" Kate's voice called from their bedroom.

I heard a sigh and then Garret moved away, going into his room and shutting the door. I grabbed my toiletry bag and sprinted quietly down the hall, closing and locking the door to the bathroom. I made quick work of using the toilet and washing my face and hands before brushing my teeth. I unlocked the door, listening closely for movement, before opening the door and running back into my room. I shut the door quickly, pushing in the lock.

I turned around and muffled a squeak.

"James!" I whisper-hissed.

"You need to make sure that no one is in your room before you lock yourself in," he told me, not scolding me, but telling me in such a way that the phrase _teachable moment_ popped into my head.

I felt myself smiling hugely.

"You're here," I said.

"I couldn't let you stay here alone," he answered honestly.

He sat perched on the edge of the bed. He looked uncomfortable, like he thought I would be unhappy to see him.

I dropped my toiletries on the floor and took one flying leap toward him. His arms wrapped around me, catching me as he fell back onto the bed.

I pushed myself up, propping myself with one hand and tucking my hair behind my ear with the other so I could look at him.

"I'm so glad," I said.

His pale skin flushed, and his normally golden brown eyes darkened to a deep brown. This close to his face, I could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks, and each speck of brown and gold in his eyes. I could see how large his pupils were, and I could see the faint blue shadows underneath his eyes. I tucked my hair behind my ear again, before bringing my fingers to his face and lightly tracing the shadows there.

His eyes closed, his dark lashes fanning across his pale pink cheeks. He didn't seem to mind me touching him, so I continued exploring his face with my fingertips.

I ran my index finger over his straight black brows. The hair was soft and thick, his face angular but angelic.

"You're so handsome James," I said wondrously, more to myself than to him.

His eyes stayed closed, but his lips broke into a smile. His hands stroked along the arm I used to stay above him before he moved fast, flipping me so my back was on the bed and he could hover above me.

"I love you Lyric," he said, still smiling down at me.

My breath caught. I wasn't used to hearing it, and now I had heard it twice from someone I loved back.

"I love you too, James," I said quietly, watching his face closely.

His eyes closed again, but when they opened they blazed at me. His face moved closer to mine, his eyes studying my face, watching every nuanced expression, anything that could tell him I was uncomfortable.

He was going to kiss me. I knew it. I could feel it and I wanted it. I wanted it so badly.

But what if I did it wrong. What if I was bad at it?

What if I was really really bad at it?

James pressed his lips to mine, just lightly, as if he was tasting the shape of me. I closed my eyes, focusing only on the press and release of his lips. I felt his body settle more firmly on top of mine; chest to chest and hip to hips. I moved my legs to make room for him, and gasped when the pressure of body arched along mine.

I had never felt anything like the tingles shooting up from my center and winding their way along my veins. It made me hot and jumpy and relaxed all at once. I moved my legs, trying to find a comfortable position, and ended up lifting my knees and hips.

James groaned suddenly and pulled back, rolling to the side and running his hands over his face. He sat up, and I stared at him, hoping he would come back. His face was red and glistened slightly with a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

"James," I said tentatively, reaching a hand toward him.

He was still wearing his grey wool peacoat, and he quickly unbuttoned it and shoved it off before tossing it over the bed onto the floor. I was reminded of his room, and felt myself smile; I was glad he was comfortable enough to throw his stuff around. I wanted to giggle, but that quickly died on my lips when he began to unbutton his shirt and lifted it over his head.

 _Holy…_

He had a t-shirt on under his button-down, but it rode up as he whipped it over his head in that way guys do. His stomach was pale almost glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and his arms flexed and his biceps stretched the sleeves of the t-shirt as he pulled the button-down away. I bit my lip quickly as a smile threatened my lips and I became overwhelmed by awkwardness. Was I staring? Was I making him uncomfortable? He wouldn't be taking his shirt off if he was, right?

"Lyric," James called my name quietly.

My finger came up to my lip, and I slowly looked up at him. He took my hand and pulled it closer to his face, holding onto the finger I'd put to my lips so he could bring it to his, gently kissing the tip. He never looked away from my face, just stared right into my eyes. His face was still flushed.

"James," I whispered and took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of my courage before leaning forward and kissing him.

I could feel his shock, but a moment later he was deepening in the kiss. His tongue traced my lips before pushing past them and lightly teasing the tip of mine.

 _Oh my god._

I had never been kissed before.

This was better than a fairytale kiss. It was the kiss that Heathcliff gave Catherine in Wuthering Heights, or MaryJane gave Spiderman when he hung upside down from that fire escape. It was everything I had ever hoped for in a kiss and never thought I would have.

I tentatively returned the touch of his tongue, making him grow bolder and thrust a little more confidently into my mouth.

My entire body felt like a wave, ebbing and flowing at the mercy of forces stronger than me. My hands moved to James' hair, playing with the short soft locks. His tongue rasped mine, stroking gently against my own. I could feel a heat rising up in my chest and I pressed myself harder against him.

"Lyric," James gasped, pulling away from my mouth, and burying his face into my neck. My hands moved down to his shoulders and then down to his back, tracing lightly up and down his spine. I could feel the planes and dips of his muscles and I followed them with my fingers. Strangely, the names of the muscle groups came to my mind as my fingers pressed against them: _trapezius, deltoid, latissimus._

"I would have done so much better on those anatomy questions if I'd had you to study," I said, and then giggled.

James chuckled into my neck and I felt him press a kiss against my throat. Just like that, I was on fire again.

"What are you doing to me?" I asked in disbelief.

James' lips pressed into the hollow of my throat. I felt his tongue lightly touch the small dip there, "Supersternal notch," he whispered, his voice vibrating delightfully against me and making me shiver.

"What?" I asked.

"Right here," he whispered and kissed me again, "I think that I will use you to study as well."

I opened my eyes so I could lift my head and look down at him. His head slowly lifted from my neck, his lips were red and puffy and I wondered if mine looked that way, too. They felt wonderfully achey. A whole world of sensory experience was suddenly open to me, and I felt like I had been starving for it and never known.

James watched me carefully and I felt his fingers trace my arm. My own hands moved down his back until my hands were pressed just above his butt. I flexed my body against his, without realizing what I was doing, and I could feel him, his hardened length pressed against me. My entire body zinged, like I was an exposed nerve. James shifted against me before rolling away to prop his hand on his hand and laid next to me.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, worried.

He shook his head, and reached forward, his hand tracing my nose, lightly pressing against my lips before running down my neck and down my chest to my waist. I turned my head to watch him, but he wasn't looking at me. He was watching his hand. I felt him tease the edge of my sweater, lifting it, before his eyes moved to mine, asking permission. I wasn't sure what he was asking, but I nodded anyway. I just wanted him to keep touching me.

His fingers were rough and cool. I could feel callouses as he touched my skin and then continued lower. I sucked in a breath when he grazed my belly and giggled when it tickled me.

He caught my laugh with his lips and began kissing me again, his lips moving harder over mine and his tongue thrusting more aggressively into my mouth until I was frantically chasing his mouth and trying to keep up. Just when I thought I would pass out from the pace of his kisses, his fingers traveled under the edge of my underwear so his entire hand could cup me. I pressed my head back into the pillow as I gasped at the new sensations.

"Oh!" I cried out.

"Shh," James warned me, continuing to kiss me, but this time a bit more gently as his fingers began to mimic the actions of his tongue. He didn't thrust into me, but seemed to be learning each curve and dip of my body. My hips flexed of their own accord; my body controlling me in a way it never had before. In that moment, I was something else, a being who was completely and totally at the mercy of her body. I had always been led by my head, but when I was with James, my body and heart took over naturally.

I felt him press and circle a part of my body, that, while I knew it existed, I never realized what it could do, or how it would heat and spin and send out frissons of electricity through my entire body. He pressed another finger against the entrance to my body and I pulled my head back.

James opened his eyes slowly. He was panting quickly and I realized with surprise that he was just as affected as I was. He stared at me while that finger lightly pressed into me; just the tip, swirling around and around while his thumb pressed and released against that small bundle of nerves.

My breath came faster and faster until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I could only concentrate on his fingers and the way he played me like an instrument. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I was rushing headlong toward something that would change me forever.

I felt James breath panting at my ear, and he said, "Let go, Lyric. I'll catch you."

My entire body heated up; I could feel the fire zipping along my veins, coalescing and gathering in the center of my body until it pushed outward and consumed me.

Slowly I came back into my body. James' fingers continued to stroke me lightly and my hips continued to move against them, but my body felt turned inside out and I jumped at even this delicate touch. Eventually I could feel my legs again, and arms and hands that were squeezing James' arms tightly. I could feel my finger tips pressed into his skin and I released him quickly, worried I was holding him too tightly.

I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, a huge smile on his face. I don't know what I had expected to see, but his face was so open and happy, I couldn't help laughing.

His lips covered mine and he whispered, "We have to be quiet."

 _Oh my god,_ "Was I loud?"

He chuckled low and deep, "No," he whispered and kissed me again, "but you were beautiful."  
I felt my face heat, and I suddenly shivered. My face was hot but my body felt sticky and chilly. I felt James give one final stroke against me before withdrawing his hand and sitting up. I watched him curiously. He kicked off his shoes and pulled down the covers on the bed. I shifted so he could pull them from under me, but then he was tucking me into his arms and under the blankets.

"Go to sleep, Lyric," he said to me quietly.

"You won't leave?" I asked.

"No," he answered, "I don't think I could move if I wanted to."

I giggled again and snuggled into his arms, wrapping one arm around his waist and pulling my leg up and over his hip until I could push my foot under his leg.

"I didn't know you were part octopus," he joked.

"I think that's my line," I giggled and then blushed when I realized what I'd said.

James buried his face in my hair and laughed, "I wish," he answered, "I'd be amazing with seven more hands."

 _Gulp._

"Um," I said, not sure how to answer.

"Go to sleep Lyric," he told me again.

"I can't sleep," I answered, "now I'm really awake."

"Lyric," he said warningly.

"What's your favorite song to play," I asked, thinking of his very talented fingers.

I felt his body still and he took a deep breath before he started to hum, his voice quiet and low, his entire body vibrating like a cat purring.

I listened to his voice, trying to follow the change in pitch and the way his voice illustrated scales and melody.

"I love that song," I whispered, my eyes closing against my will.

I felt his lips press against me again, and then his arms tightened around me, and all I felt was warmth and safety and music and happiness.

My human pillow had disappeared and I shivered. I reached out a hand, looking for the warmth and to pull it toward me, but it was gone.

The rumble of voices pulled me more fully from my sleep.

"It's all set man," I heard Taylor say, "go home."

"I don't want to leave her," James answered.

I opened my eyes, confused, "Tex?"

"Hey there," I heard Taylor answer and then I felt the bed dip with his weight, "Sleep well?"

I sat up and rubbed my eyes; it was still dark outside, "Are you guys leaving? What time is it?" My voice trembled a little at the idea of spending the rest of the night alone in the house.

"It's a little after three," James sat down next to me. He was completely dressed, even his coat was back on.

"You're leaving," I stated.

His eyebrows came together and I recognized his upset face, "It's okay," I said quickly, "if you need to go, I'll be okay."

 _Stay,_ I thought, _please stay._

"I have to go," he whispered, his face torn and he looked at Taylor, "I have a job I need to do before school…"

"I'll stay," Taylor interrupted, "I'll stay until we need to leave for school."

The relief on James' face was instantaneous, the tension draining away from his body, "Thank you," he told him.

"Wouldn't call it a hardship," Taylor chuckled.

"James," a voice whispered from outside. I looked over to see Kell's head peeking into the window, "we need to go."

"How'd you get up here?" I asked, remembering we were on the second story.

"Hello Priya," Kell whispered, "a ladder. Amazing technology, that."

I giggled. James leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips, "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded sleepily again, and saw Taylor pulling off his letterman jacket before crossing his leg at the knee to untie his boots.

"Okay," I answered, "be safe."

"Of course," James answered.

"Be safe, Kell," I called out quietly, "I love you."

Kell's teeth reflected in the dim light, "Love you too."

I felt James' hand on my chin as he turned my face to his again, "I love you, Lyric," he said.

"I love you too James," I answered.

James gave me one more loaded look, making me blush, before heading out the window after Kell.

"Come on," Taylor said, crawling into bed, "time for sleep."

I looked over at him and my face flushed further. He'd taken off his shirt and had his arm behind his head. Even with the little bit of light from the bedside lamp, I could see he was tanner than James. He was also bulkier and more defined. I had the sudden desire to explore him more thoroughly. My poor body was so confused. These boys inspired feelings that were making my head spin.

Taylor chuckled, "Like what you see?" he asked waggling his eyebrows at me.

I blushed but raised my eyebrows back, and crawled over to him. The smile disappeared from his face as I crawled closer until I was right next to him. I reached across him, my face inches from his, and flipped off the light.

Then I dropped my head onto his chest and wrapped my arm around him, tickling him under the armpit, the hair soft against my finger tips. He wiggled against me, trying to displace my hand.

"You know it," I said and turned my face into his chest before giving him a light kiss and then a loud raspberry.

He laughed and sucked in a breath, "What am I going to do with you, Crash?" he asked.

"Keep me," I told him. Even though my tone was joking, I was being honest. It was what I wanted, to stay with them forever.

"Like you could get rid of me," he joked.

Both of his arms came around me, squeezing me, before one came up to my head and started stroking my hair.

"Go to sleep Lyric," he told me.

"That's what James said," I answered.

"That's why he's in charge," Taylor answered, "because he's a smart guy. Now, go to sleep."

"You too," I answered, my words split by a huge yawn.

I felt his chest heave with a sigh, "Lyric," he said, "go to sleep."

He stroked my hair lightly and his lips pressed against my forehead.

"Fine," I answered tiredly, "goodnight Tex. I love you."

"Love you too, Crash," he answered.

I could hear his heart and concentrated on the rhythm. It reminded me of James' humming, and I smiled. Each of my boys had their own kind of music to put me to sleep.

 _Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please please please comment! Leave me your thoughts and impressions!_


	38. Waking up with Taylor

**Waking up with Taylor**

* * *

Taylor woke me up when it was still dark outside.

I slowly became aware of him stroking my arm; starting at the top of my shoulder and running the back of his hand down to my hand; then running back up my hand to my shoulder to tuck my hair away and kiss my neck.

"Crash," he whispered in my ear, "I have to go."

I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck. His body was giving off more heat than a fireplace.

"No," I said grumpily, nuzzling his chest like a kitten.

He husked a laugh and pulled me into his body, throwing a leg around mine until he was a Taylor-blanket.

"It's almost six," he said, "Garret gets up soon, and it wouldn't be good if he found us."

My eyes opened, the happy lethargy leaving me, "Okay," I said, putting my hands on his warm chest and pushing away.

He tightened his arms so I couldn't move, and rolled us, until he was on top of me. I gasped when I felt another part of his body press into me. I looked up quickly into his face, but he was a sort of white blob in the darkness. I lifted my hands to cup his face. His face was scratchy, but my fingertips could poke his dimples.

So I did.

I put both my fingers in his dimples and poked him.

"Crash," he laughed. His entire body shaking, pressing into me in ways that made me shudder and gasp and arch.

"Crash," he said again, his amorphous face moving closer to mine.

I lifted my head to kiss him and felt a shock of electricity, like I had scuffed my feet back and forth along the carpet and touched the doorknob, "Ouch!" I hissed.

"Shit!" Taylor whispered, rolling until he fell off the end of the bed and hit the floor.

I heard the doorknob shake, and then click, and the door creaked open, "Lyric?" Garret asked, switching on the overhead light.

"Yes?" I replied, squinting and pulling the covers to my chin before sitting up and trying not to look around the room suspiciously.

"Time to get up," he said, his eyes roaming around the room before settling on me.

"Okay," I answered, "but I have an alarm, so you won't need to wake me up again."

"Oh," he said, smiling, "I don't mind. I like to see your smiling face right off."

"Garret?" Kate asked, poking her head into the room. She looked a little confused, but covered it, "What are you doing in here? Nevermind… Lyric, Garret can bring you to school, but you need to leave in thirty. Bathroom's yours."

"Thanks," I said. This was a lot of conversation for just waking up, "but the boys will pick me up."

Garret's eyes narrowed and Kate gave him a strange look, "That's great, Lyric," she said, watching Garret closely before shaking her head, "Really helpful actually," she added before asking, "What about after school?"

"The boys can bring me home and I can watch Marie until they pick me up for our study group," I answered.

"Is it wrong that I'm already looking forward to my nap?" she asked joking.

I noticed Garret staring at me, as if willing me to say something, but I had no idea what he wanted me to say. If he expected me to argue, he was crazy. I wanted every spare minute I could get with the guys, and I really didn't want to be in a car alone with Garett.

"They'll be here soon," I said, "so I should probably get dressed."

"Of course," Kate nodded, and grabbed Garret's elbow, pulling him out of the room.

I waited until I heard them move away from the door and then pulled myself over to the side of the bed, where Taylor lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

"That was close," I whispered.

Taylor nodded, not looking at me, "The door was locked," he said finally.

I nodded, realizing that the sound I heard was Garret unfastening the door somehow.

"How'd you know?" I asked, remembering how Taylor had been able to roll off the bed right before the door opened.

He looked at me his face going from angry to sheepish, and sat up, reaching under the sheets to pull out his phone. I looked at it confused, "It rang?"

He shook his head, "No," he answered, "if there's an emergency, it issues a small shock."

I stared at him a moment, and then laughed, "I thought it was you!" I said, resting my head on my hands.

"Me?" Taylor asked, confused and then his face cleared as he realized what I was saying, "you mean my insane hotness sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body?"

I smiled a little embarrassed. He reached for me, pulling me down until I lied flush agains this body and he could lean back. He put one arm under his head so he could see me, while I braced myself over him with both my hands.

"What do you think?" he asked in a low tone, his eyes darkening with something that made me shiver again, "do you feel it now?"

I nodded slowly, and he lifted his head to mine. His lips touched mine and I swore, I did feel the shock again. I angled my head and lightly touched his bottom lip with my teeth, nibbling gently before sucking away the hurt.

His tongue licked at my lower lip, asking permission for entry. I opened my lips and he touched my tongue with his. His breath was warm against me and I imagined that the air from his lungs was going directly into mine, like he was keeping me alive.

"I love you," Taylor said against my mouth.

My only answer was to kiss him deeper. I let the fingers of one hand trace his ribs, counting them until I could grip his hip and reach under the elastic of his boxers. I didn't know what gave me the courage, but I thought about how good he made me feel and I wanted to return a little piece of it.

He gripped my wrist, stopping me, "Lyric," he whispered, "don't."

"Please," I asked, wanting to explore him. I loved the way his skin felt against my skin; the way it rasped and tickled mine. I loved how his lips could be so soft, but so firm, and the way he could kiss me with complete confidence, but tremble as he held my hand now.

"I want to," he whispered, "Believe me. I really really _really_ want to. But it's not the right time."

I opened my eyes. Taylor was staring at me, willing me to believe him and to listen to him.

I curled my fingers against his stomach, lightly scratching while I pulled my hand from his shorts, "Of course," I answered, "I'm sorry."

"No!" he said, "No. Please. I just… I don't want to rush. When we finally touch each other, I don't want it to be on the floor of this bedroom."

I smiled at him, trying to reassure him, "I love you Taylor Curtis. Wherever we are, it will be perfect," I moved to the side, sitting cross-legged, "but you're right. This isn't the right time. I'm sorry I pushed you."

Taylor smiled relieved, and pulled my head forward, kissing the back of it before picking me up and depositing me on top of the bed.

He reached for his jeans and pulled them on, then bent over to pick up his shirt without buttoning his pants. When he turned toward me my eyes were drawn to his smooth tanned stomach. I clenched my hands to keep from reaching out to touch him. Taylor gave me a wicked smile and kneeled next to the bed, scooting over to me before giving me a quick kiss, and pulling away, "Fifteen minutes," he said.

I was half off the bed, straining toward him and he chuckled at me.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Be ready," he said again, standing and moving to the window, "We'll be here in fifteen."

It was still dark outside, "Be careful," I told him.

He smiled and backed through the window, "Get dressed," he mouthed before descending down the ladder.

I went over to my suitcase and pulled out an outfit before looking around and going back to the door to push in the lock. Maybe Garret could still open it, but at least the click would give me a warning. I stood with my back against the door and changed out of my clothes. I wondered if the boys could see me, and then I wondered if I cared.

I grabbed another set of underclothes from my suitcase and stuffed them into my backpack before opening the door and going down the hall. Marie's door was still closed, so I assumed she was sleeping, but I could hear Garret and Kate talking softly in their bedroom. I hurried past, going down the stairs, and opening the front door.

"Bye!" I called out in a whisper, just so I could say I said goodbye if I needed to explain myself later.

It was a habit I'd developed with my mom; I would go through the motions of doing what I thought was the "right" thing before moving onto what I actually wanted to do.

I heard the roar of a truck, and smiled to myself.

 _Taylor._

He was going to wake up the whole neighborhood in that thing. I watched him drive up. He had huge rooftop lights illuminated on top on the truck along with what could only be extra-bright headlights. It looked like his truck traveled with it's own spotlight. It was not at all inconspicuous, but then again, that was Taylor. He didn't really care about blending in.

The truck stopped in front of me and Taylor jumped out of the cab, coming around and opening the door.

"Your chariot," he gestured.

I laughed and took his hand, hoisting a leg up onto the running board, "I can't wear skirts if you pick me up in this truck," I told him, looking back at him over my shoulder.

He was staring at my butt, "What?" he asked.

"Taylor!" I laughed and he winked at me before jumping back in and driving us to school.

The parking lot was half-full even though we were early. The football team had morning practices and so did the soccer team, so that accounted for some of the cars. I found myself bouncing up and down in the seat as I scanned the parking lot for Kell and James.

Taylor pointed, "There," he said, knowing what I was looking for.

I saw Kell and James standing next to James' car, "Too cold for the bike," Taylor said, "plus, Kell wants to be with you after school. He wanted alone time."

I looked over sharply, but Taylor didn't seem to be too bothered by the idea of me spending alone time with Kell. He parked and opened his door and in the dome light saw my face, "It's okay, Lyric," he said seriously, "we're all okay with you spending time alone with each of us," he squeezed my hand, "it's what we want. As long as I get alone time with you too, I'm happy."

I nodded, still feeling a little nervous, but mostly excited about time with each of them, "I really liked waking up with you," I told him.

His answering smile was blinding, "Me, too," he answered and opened his mouth to say more, but the door next to me was jerked open.

"Too fucking long," Kell said, pulling me out of the truck and into his arms.

"My Kell," I answered, burying my face against his leather jacket and winding my arms around his waist tightly.

He straightened until my feet dangled off the ground. One of his arms went under my butt and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I heard him give a grunt before he squeezed me tighter. My head was higher than his now and I pulled back to look at his face.

"I'm not too heavy?" I asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, "No," he answered and leaned toward me.

He was going to kiss me. _Finally._

I leaned toward him and pressed my lips to his. His arms squeezed me tightly and his tongue pushed past my lips. The kiss lasted just a moment, but it was potent enough to make me squeeze my legs around his waist even tighter.

"Priya," he whispered against my lips as I untangled myself so he could lower me to the ground.

I looked over to see Taylor and James standing by smugly, "Finished?" Taylor asked with a wide smile.

"Hardly," Kell answered, not looking away from me.

We started walking to the school, "I need to use the shower in the locker room," I told them after we entered, "so I'll see you guys in class."

I saw understanding dawn on James' face immediately; his skin paling and lips thinning, "We'll wait for you," he told me directing me toward the gym and locker rooms.

"Jamie!" I heard a voice call out as we walked.

I'd stopped when I heard the female voice, and felt my stomach drop when I heard her use my nickname for James.

Melanie was jogging down the hall to meet us.

"Hey," she said breathlessly when she caught up, "Hey Lyric," she said politely.

"Hi," I answered, pushing my finger to my lip.

She turned to James, "I wondered if we could make a time to meet?" she asked, "for the Humanities project?"

The jealousy I suddenly felt was a tangible thing. I really didn't want James doing a project with Melanie.

"Oh yeah," James answered, "well, I'm meeting with Lyric, Kell, and Taylor tonight so you could join us."

 _No._ I thought, childishly. I didn't want her joining us. I had to resist the urge to cross my arms and stamp my foot.

"Um," Melanie began nervously, "I was thinking we could work, um, just the two of us?"

"I'm with Lyric and the guys almost every day," James answered kindly, "but we're all working on different things, so it wouldn't be a problem if you joined us."

I suddenly realized what he was doing. He had to work with Melanie on a project, but by including her in our group, he was showing me that he didn't put her ahead of me, and he was also letting Melanie know, in a kind way, that he wasn't interested in studying alone with her, and whatever doing that might imply.

"It'll be fun," I said, my jealousy disappearing with my realization, "join us."

She looked at me a little unsure, then shrugged and smiled, "Okay," she said, "I have field hockey practice at three, but I'm done by five-thirty."

"I babysit until eight, so we usually meet then," I answered.

"Oh," Melanie answered, "that's fine. It'll give me time to eat and do some other stuff. Pick me up?" she said turning to James.

I had to hand it to her, she was persistent.

"Sure," James answered, "tell me where you live and I'll swing by after I get Lyric."

I could have kissed him. Actually, I would kiss him, just as soon as I got him alone again. He met my eyes and smiled at me. I bit my lip, but smiled back happily.

"Okay," she answered, "see you then. See you later Lyric," she told me and gave me a small wave before heading back to the waiting group of girls.

"Sorry," I apologized to James, who was still watching me closely.

"Were you jealous?" he asked surprised.

"Um," I answered, clearing my throat nervously, "she called you Jamie."

I saw his eyes widen before he understood what I was saying, "Oh!" he answered and then smiled, "so you were."

I narrowed my eyes at him, debating what say. Finally I threw my hands up in the air, "Fine!" I answered quietly, "Okay! I'm jealous. I was jealous. I'm not jealous now. But I was. I don't like other girls looking at you guys, but…" I looked at all of them, "look at you! Of course they're going to look."

Taylor took a step toward me, but James shook his head even as he reached toward me and had to draw back his own hand. Kell put his arms around me and kissed my head, "You don't have anything to worry about," he told me.

"I know," I answered, "but still…"

Taylor pulled his hair back from his face with one hand and held it there, "Can I hug her?" he asked James.

James shook his head, "Only Kell at school," he said, looking at me a bit longingly, "we agreed."

I could guess what they agreed and so didn't feel the need to ask for clarification, but I felt a little annoyed that they hadn't asked me first. Maybe I didn't want to pretend one of them was my boyfriend and the others weren't, but in the next breath I understood what a target I would make both them and myself if I was affectionate with all of them in public.

"I need to…" I pointed to the locker room.

James nodded, "We'll wait for you here," he said.

I walked inside and heard Taylor ask in a low voice, "… alternating weeks?"

I giggled as the door closed behind me and then sighed as I looked around. I was back to the quick cold morning showers.

But not for long, I reminded myself. Soon enough I would be enrolled in the Academy and maybe there would be hot showers there. I didn't know for sure about the hot showers, but I did know that I would be safe there. I could tell after talking to Constance, who, even if I didn't agree with what she said about joining other teams, seemed to have my best interest at heart.

I got my toiletries set up and my clothes. I stripped down quickly and jumped into the shower, adding the shampoo and quickly scrubbing my body. I was finished in a minute and turned off the shower, reaching around the shower curtain for my towel.

It wasn't within arm's reach, where I had been sure to put it, so I peeked around the curtain. Riley stood just inside the changing area. She held the towel on her index finger, watching me smugly.

"Hey Charity Case," she said.


	39. Fight! Fight! Fight!

**Fight! Fight! Fight!**

I tried to stay invisible.

I didn't want to give people a reason to notice me or hate me.

I just wanted to be another body in a sea of teenagers, but standing with three gorgeous boys wasn't the way to stay inconspicuous.

It was a trade off, I realized, standing in the shower naked, and watching Riley hold my towel, thinking she had me right where she wanted me. I could stay invisible, or I could stay with the boys. Easy enough; I chose the boys.

I watched her for a moment, debating my next course of action. She watched me too, one beautifully sculpted eyebrow raised, one lovely manicured fingertip holding my old bleached towel. Her hair was perfect, styled in graceful waves that looked natural, but I knew must have taken an hour to get right. She wore ripped jeans, but those rips were factory placed, not the result of age or inability to buy new clothes. This was a girl who didn't like to get dirty. She would fight with words, and intimidation, but I would bet she'd never really gotten physical before. Her carefully chosen wardrobe and expertly styled physicality, all the way down to her nails, made it obvious to me that she wouldn't want to be a mess, but I was always a mess and had to defend myself more times that I cared to remember.

So I was going to use that to my advantage.

I launched myself, naked, across the locker room at her. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open right before I pushed her back with one hand and whipped the towel out of her hand with the other.

She flew backwards but caught her balance and took a step toward me, like she wanted to fight.

I wrapped the towel around my body and held up a hand, "Are you sure you want to fight me?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes at me, like it was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard and she had absolutely no doubt that she would beat me down.

"Because you know where I come from," I said, walking toward her, "I live in a trailer. I get free lunch. My mom is on welfare. I wear old clothes and don't have a car. I have no money and nothing to lose. I can go to jail, no one would care, it wouldn't affect my future. But what about you?"

Riley's face paled a little and she took a step back.

"I don't care if my hair is pulled out of my scalp, and I don't have nails that can break when I rake them across someone's face. If I get pulled out of this locker room a mess, no one will be surprised. But what happens when you leave here and look the way you will after a fight? Do you think the boys will think you're beautiful when you're covered in tears and snot and your shirt is ripped and the heel on your fancy boot is broken so you have to limp to the cop car?"

Her faced paled further, making her look like a clown because the only color left was the bronzer that she'd put on.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, looking down her nose at me.

I had no doubt that I would also be hurt if we fought. Riley was taller than me by six inches and heavier by ten pounds; that alone would give her an advantage.

But what I told her was the truth, the perfection she'd created this morning would be ruined if she wanted to fight me, and I had a feeling that she would do anything to protect her image.

I took a step forward and she backed into the row of locker, making the entire structure shake. A wire basket perched on top of it wobbled and crashed loudly to the floor, echoing through the tiled room.

Riley jumped again and moved out of the way, watching me closely. I stepped closer to the lockers, trying to move to the door in case she decided that she wanted to mess up her perfect hair and actually throw down.

"I don't get you," Riley said thoughtfully, the wicked glint leaving her eyes and making the tension drain out of me, "what do they see in you?"

I shrugged. I didn't know what they saw in me to begin with, but we had something now. Something beautiful and perfect that was worth any future pain.

I stood between Riley and the door and I moved aside, a silent hint to just go. I saw the moment she made up her mind that I wasn't worth it and breathed a sigh of relief. She still looked at me with disgust, but there was a tinge of something else in her gaze as well. She walked past me, shouldering me lightly, but my feet slipped on the tiled floor I had dripped all over. I hit the locker with my back and it shook, throwing me off balance. I had just enough time to see Riley's eyes widen in surprise before something hit me hard in the head, knocking me to the floor.

I blinked my eyes, but my wet hair was all over my face and dripping water, making it hard for me to see. I pushed my hair away and winced before noticing bright red blood covering my palm.

I looked up shocked at Riley.

She knelt next to me quickly, "Stay here," she said, "here," she pushed a piece of clothing against my head, "hold this. I'll be right back."

"Hey!" I heard her yell down the hall, "Kell!"

I heard the door slam into the wall and then Kell's dark eyed face filled my vision.

"No no no no no," he started repeating, his brown face draining of blood. He wobbled and sat next to me, reaching out a shaking hand toward my face. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks and he got a far off look in his eyes. He slipped back, and though he was with me, it felt like his spirit left. I was left with a Kell-husk, but I was so discombobulated I couldn't figure out what had happened or what to do. My vision started to spin.

"Kell!" James' voice echoed tinnily off the tile.

"Tay," James directed, "see to Kell. I've got Lyric."  
"Is she going to be okay?" I heard Riley ask.

"Just a cut," James said, kneeling next to me and gently peeling the fabric away from my head. His face blanched and I felt a new warm rush of liquid spill down my face, "Scars are sexy though," he whispered, forcing a smile for me.

"Kell," I whispered, looking over at Taylor who was gripping Kell's face and talking to him. Kell continued to stare at me blankly before blinking and then looking down at his hands that were stained with my blood.

"Taylor," Kell whispered, his voice rising in panic before looking at me, "Lyric!"

"She's okay," Taylor repeated, "it's just a cut.

"Lyric!" he cried out, pushing away Taylor's hands and trying to crawl toward me. I reached out a hand toward him. He looked down at it and closed his eyes.

"The blood," he whispered, "I can't…" He opened his eyes again and was gone.

My Kell!

Somehow I was triggering something inside of him that made him retreat so far into himself that he made his spirit a tiny little speck of light, hidden inside his body.

"James," I cried, "please help him."

"He'll be okay," James whispered, and then said aside, "How long?"

"Two minutes," Taylor answered.

"We're going to the hospital, Lyric," James explained quietly, "he'll be okay. I promise. It's happened before, he'll be okay."

My vision colored deep red; hazier at the edges and tunneling until all I saw was James' wide eyes.

"Stay with me, Lyric," he demanded, "Keep your eyes open."

"I'm sorry Jamie," I whispered and let the red cover me.


	40. Kell's Point of View 2

**Kell's Point of View**

 _I held the razor lightly between two fingers. I had taken it out of the Exacto-Knife that James stored in a kitchen drawer._

 _The junk drawer._

 _That was what he called it. It should be called the useful drawer, because I had found everything I needed in it._

 _I held the razor up to the light, watching the light reflect and refract, shining onto the wall next to me._

 _I rolled up my sleeve, pushing it above my elbow. My mind was screaming at me, my desperation clawing at my throat and chest._

 _Lyric was leaving. She would be gone forever. She could never love me. I hated me. I couldn't help her. I couldn't help anyone. I couldn't help my family. I would let them down. I would let her down._

 _I pressed the razor gently on my arm, watching the brown skin depress. One light swipe would make it all better._

 _"_ _Kell?" her voice echoed through my bedroom and I threw the razor next to the sink._

 _Her green eyes searched mine._

 _I could do this. I could feel this. I would save her. She would save me._

"Kell?" Lyric's voice pulled at me though I was far away.

I struggled toward her, to her voice, pushing away the heaviness burying me deep inside myself.

"Lyric!" I called to her and her face came into focus. I crawled toward her. She held out a hand to me and I looked down.

Blood stained her palm; pink, red, almost black. Another hand reached toward me. Darker, smaller.

"The blood," I whispered, trying to make her understand, "I can't."

The water closed over my head and I floated away. I followed the darkness, letting it surround me and suffocate me to keep the pain at bay.

"Kell?"

 _I stood in my kitchen._

 _"_ _Papa?" I called._

 _No one answered me._

 _"_ _Advika?"_

 _My sister was always home when I got home. She went to work at seven in the evening at the nursing home and was back before I left for school. She took care of my father during the day and I took care of him all night._

 _My father wasn't well._

 _After an incident at a grocery store, with my father throwing oranges gleefully in the air, and then tackling the manager who dared stop his fun, my sister and I were told the reason for his strange behavior: early onset dementia. It was a name that gave no insight into the changes such a diagnosis wrought. My once caring, logical, brilliant, and organized father was now unreasonable, irate, paranoid, and aggressive. I had bruises on my forearms and shoulders from protecting my head when he decided to swing his walker like a shotput. For an increasingly frail man, he was surprisingly strong when angry._

 _"_ _Advika?" I called again, walking toward my father's bedroom. It had once been the living room, but as he became weaker and needed more care, we decided it made the most sense to keep him on the main living floor.  
_

 _I stepped in something sticky and sighed, tired and disgusted. My father threw his food at times. He couldn't chew and swallow whole foods now and was on a soft diet. It made him incredibly frustrated and meal times were some of the worst times in our house. In fleeting moments of clarity he begged for familiar foods._

 _Sure enough there was a handprint stain on the hallway wall, along with a weird smell; like dirty diapers and vomit._

 _Tatti. Shit._

 _"Advika?" I hated the idea of my sister dealing with this all by herself. I should have quit the Academy, I should have focused on my family. Family first._

 _But which family?_

 _The smell was getting worse and I paused, suddenly anxious. This felt wrong._

 _"_ _Advika!" I yelled and heard a groan._

 _I ran, slipping again in whatever was on the floor and fell hard. I pushed myself up with my hands, but now in the entry way of the living room, with the waning afternoon sunlight pouring through the big picture window, I could see what was on the floor._

 _Huge red pools of sticky liquid._

 _My brain began to operate separately from my body. It took in the visual stimuli, processed it, spit out a label: blood. The other part was pure feeling: terror, confusion, denial._

 _I saw my father lying on the floor. His shirt was covered in blood._

 _"_ _Papa!" I cried and crawled to him._

 _'_ _Stand up,' I demanded of my body._

 _'_ _Impossible,' it answered._

 _My father's eyes, my eyes, were wide and confused._

 _"_ _Chi," he said thoughtfully in Hindi, looking at his shirt, 'yuck.'_

 _My brain clicked, Academy training coming into play: triage. He had no life-threatening wounds, just some scratches on his face and arms._

 _I put my hands under his arms, dragging him to the sofa and propping him against the side._

 _"_ _Stay," I demanded, amazed my voice was working._

 _"_ _Advika!"_

 _Push forward, move._

 _My legs responded, finally, and I stood, taking a step forward._

 _I tried to make sense of the mess. Streaks of red, starting light, like a finger painting flipped upside down and pulled across the floor, out of the room. I groped in my pocket for my phone, and hit buttons, any buttons: Taylor. James._

 _I just needed to find my sister, move forward, administer first aid, do what was needed. Act first, think second._

 _Why couldn't I stop thinking, though?_

 _I saw a foot, clad in a purple converse sneaker, one foot bare. The leg of a blue scrub pulled up to reveal a brown calf, another leg, pulled up like the leg of a cricket, ready to spring into the air. Rosie the Riveter scrub top. The old ladies loved it. Advika wore it for them._

 _The top shifted, lifted shallowly, a sound like a rattle, coins in a can, wet mucus, the inability to clear one's throat._

 _Black hair spilled, pulled from a ponytail, a hand, opening and closing. Covered in thick blood, pulling at the floor, nails broken._

 _I fell on my belly, face to face with my sister._

 _Her eyes were bloodshot, vessels broken from gasping in air that punctured lungs could no longer accept. Lips blue, dark skin made darker with blood and bruises. Wet rivulets of tears._

 _Her mouth moved, opened and closed when she saw me._

 _"_ _Cho.. cho… chot…" Little brother._

 _Barely a sound, I only knew what she tried to say by the shape of her lips, by the words I'd heard repeated in love, in frustration, in anger, in confusion, my whole life._

 _I couldn't speak. Her hand reached toward me. It was covered in blood. Her palm red. Her nails red. Her knuckles red._

 _Red._

 _Red._

 _Red._

 _I blinked._

 _"_ _Kell!" James' voice._

 _I stared up at him, trying to remember what I had been doing. I heard sirens and other, unfamiliar voices. I felt a weight in my arms and looked down to see I had my sister cradled. Her eyes were closed, her body still._

 _"_ _Who?" James asked, his face pale and lips white._

 _"_ _My father," I said certain and sad._

 _I looked into the living room, the police and EMTs were lifting my father, helping him onto a gurney. Taylor ran into the room and stopped. He looked young and scared. He met my eyes and took a step forward, then looked down at Advika and stopped._

 _"_ _No," he whispered, his eyes glued to Advika._

 _"_ _No!" he yelled again and leapt at my father, knowing, as I did, that he was the one to do this to her._

 _One of the officers grabbed him, "Calm down," he yelled at Taylor._

 _"_ _Let me go!" Taylor cried out, "Why? Why did you do this?" he begged of my father._

 _I pulled my sister closer to my chest and rocked her, kissing her soft hair._

 _"_ _Son," a man knelt in front of me. I looked around. The lights in the house were on and glaring, blinding me._

 _"_ _You need to let her go."  
_

 _Where were Taylor and James?_

 _I looked at my sister, "Advika," I whispered._

 _"_ _She's gone," the man said kindly, "let us take her, clean her up. You can see her again later."  
_

 _She would have been so embarrassed if people saw her like this. She cared that her ponytail was smooth, her clothing ironed and clean._

 _I slowly released my grip on her, letting her roll forward out of my arms._

 _I blinked._

 _"_ _Kell," a soft southern accented voice said._

 _I stared at my hands. I could have saved her. It should have been me who died. I should have been putting my energy into my birth family._

 _"_ _Kell," the voice repeated._

 _I looked up; saw Dr. Roberts face staring at me in concern._

 _"_ _Do you remember where you are?"  
_

 _I cleared my throat, my eyes traveling from my palms to the white bandages wrapped around my wrists, "Yes."  
_

 _"We're going to help you, Kell," Dr. Roberts said, "we'll take care of you. You don't have to do this alone."  
_

 _"Advika was alone," I whispered, "no one helped her."_

 _"_ _She was," Dr. Roberts answered, getting my attention, "and she shouldn't have been. We are all at fault," he continued, "can you forgive me, Kell?"_

 _I stared at him confused, not sure what he meant._

 _"_ _You're a sixteen year-old boy," Dr. Roberts said, "The Academy should have stepped in. Not allowed you and Advika to keep your father home as long as you did. I hold myself responsible."  
_

 _I shook my head without thinking, "Not your fault," I answered._

 _Dr. Roberts was silent for a moment._

 _"_ _Your family needs you," he said quietly, "Taylor and James. They are lost without you."  
_

 _I looked around the room, and then back at my arms. The small cuts were already healing, the ones needing stitches covered with bandages._

 _"_ _Where are they?" I asked, feeling a surge of guilt at abandoning them._

 _"_ _They're here," he answered, "they come every day. They were in here earlier. Do you remember?"  
_

 _I shook my head; I didn't remember._

 _"_ _Will you see them? Let us help you?" he asked me again, "Will you let them help you?"  
_

 _I took a deep breath, turning my hands over and placing them next to me on the bed, hiding the bandages. I nodded._

 _I blinked._

"Kell?" Lyric's voice.

"Kell," Taylor called my name, "get your shit together. You don't need to do this anymore. You can handle this. Lyric needs you."

I looked around the locker room. Lyric's eyes were closed. James had her lying down on the tiled floor. Riley pressed a cloth against her head. James supported her head, keeping her stabilized.

I blinked again and drew in a deep breath.

"Emergency response?" I asked.

"Should be arriving any moment," Taylor answered.

"Breathing?"

"Normal," James answered, "it's most likely a concussion. I'm stabilizing as a precautionary measure."

"What happened?" I asked Riley.

Her face was pale and I saw she was shivering. My brain processed her response, and recognized the early stages of shock.

"Taylor," I commanded, "get her a sweatshirt, or blanket."

Taylor nodded and stripped off his flannel shirt after looking around and seeing nothing. He wrapped it around her shoulders.

I heard voices in the hall and stood up, "In here," I called out the door.

Paramedics flooded the room, pushing us out of the way, barking out questions. I let James answer calmly. I directed one of the paramedics to examine Riley and the two girls were strapped onto stretchers and brought out of the building.

"What day is it?" I asked Taylor as we followed the stretchers out of the school.

"Kell," James called to me, interrupting, "ride with Taylor. I'm riding in the ambulance."

The paramedic near the stretcher raised an eyebrow, but something in James' face told him not to argue. There were moments when James stopped resembling an eighteen year-old, and started resembling a CEO; he exuded confidence and authority, and brooked no opposition. It was one of many reasons he was our Academy liaison.

"What's going on?" I heard someone yell.

"Shit," Taylor whispered, "that's why you asked what day it was."

I had worried it was a "B" day, which meant early morning art class, which meant the possibility of Garret arriving. Apparently I had been worried for good reason.

"Lyric?" he cried out, "what happened? What did you do to her?" he looked at me accusingly.

The campus security officer who was standing nearby looked over at me questioningly, "I don't know what happened," I answered his unspoken question.

Garret approached me aggressively, "You stay away from her," he said. I kept my eyes trained on his face, praying that James would make it into the ambulance before Garret saw him.

He took another step toward me.

"She's mine," he hissed, quietly enough that the officer wouldn't hear, "stay away. Understand?"

I shook my head, "Never," I answered.

He stared at me in shock. Did he think I would agree? That he would intimidate me?

"She'll never be yours," I told him, "and I'll never stay away."

* * *

Thanks for reading. I know this one is a little strange, so please comment and let me know what you think!


	41. Taylor's Secret

**Taylor's Secret**

I could hear arguing.

"I am her family. Her only family."

"Garret you're being unreasonable."

"Stay out of it. I make the decisions when it comes to her."

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to move my head in the direction of the voices but I couldn't. I reached up my hands and felt a stiff collar around my neck.

My eyes flew open as memories of the locker room hit me.

"Kell!" I called out.

I heard footsteps and felt the bed settle before Garret's concerned eyes met mine. He held my hand while he pushed my hair away from my face. I tried to look around him, but with the collar on, my range of motion was severely limited. I felt stuck, tied down, and a rising panic began to grow in my chest. It felt like the collar was stopping me from taking a deep breath and I started to pant.

"You're okay, Lyric," Garret said softly, seeing my discomfort, "you have some stitches and a concussion, but you're going to be fine."

I saw movement behind him. Kate was hovering, watching Garret with a look that was part confusion and part anger.

"Where's Kell?" I asked, trying to see around him, "and Taylor and James?"

Garret's eyes narrowed, "They're in the waiting room," he said, his hand still lightly touching my head.

"That hurts," I told him softly, wanting him to move his hands.

He didn't take it away completely, instead moving it to my arm, "We're just waiting for the doctor to discharge you and then we can go home."

"Can I see the guys please?" I asked again, not afraid to beg.

"Lyric," Garret sighed and shook his head. He seemed frustrated and put-out with me, but I didn't care. I needed them. I could feel myself growing lightheaded, as I continued to take short breaths that did nothing to relieve my tension.

"I'll get them," Kate interrupted, "Garret needs to go to the office and Marie is with the guys. Or the princes. I think that's what she called them."

"Kate!" Garret chided her.

"Jesus Garret," Kate answered throwing her hands up to the ceiling, "enough!"

She walked to the door and stopped, her hand gripping the entryway for a moment, before continuing out of the room.

"They're not good for you, Lyric," Garret said squeezing my arm, "I was a teenage boy once. I know how they think."  
I didn't answer, but watched the door, waiting for them. I pretended Garret was far away, that he wasn't touching me.

I saw a dark head.

"Kell!" I called out, and felt along my neck for the velcro straps keeping the collar on. I needed to move my head to see Kell. I ripped at them until I could pull it off and drop it on the bed.

His dark head moved through the door before all of him appeared at my feet.

"Hello Priya," Kell said, his voice giving me the ability to breath, "or should I say Crash?"

I giggled and then groaned when it made my head bounce, "Ouch," I said under my breath.

Kell's face was immediately serious, "You have a concussion."

"I know," I answered, reaching for his hand.

"You're supposed to leave the collar on," he said, scolding me but smiling at the same time.

Kell came around the other side of the bed when it became clear that Garret wasn't moving. I continued to pretend he wasn't there, focusing only on Kell. He was who I needed. He gave me air and made me safe.

"Where are the guys?" I asked.

"They're with Marie and Kate," Kell answered, glancing at Garret, "They are only allowing two visitors at a time."

"Oh," I answered, trying not to look pointedly at Garret.

 _Leave leave leave,_ I wished.

"Can you sneak them in?" I asked him, desperate for the sight of them.

"Lyric," Garret said warningly, "You can see them later. There's no reason for them to stay."

"I'll text them," Kell said, getting out his phone, "We've been waiting to see you, but we agreed we'd only stay a minute until all of us got a chance to lay eyes on you."

He took my hand in his and squeezed it before leaning forward and kissing my cheek.

I heard a throat clear, but Kell continued to linger, pressing his soft lips to my cheek.

"I love you," he whispered near my ear, making my eyes close.

"I love you, too," I answered, my voice clear.

 _There,_ I thought, _I'm not hiding it anymore._

"One of us will be right here," he told me, his eyes blazing into mine as he gave my hand one last squeeze and stood up to take out his phone. He texted quickly, keeping one eye on the door and one eye on me before putting the phone back in his pocket and holding onto my hand.

"I love you," I said again to Kell, and he smiled at me, leaning toward me for another kiss before Garret spoke.

"Lyric," he said, his voice choked.

I looked over at him, and felt a jolt at the change in his appearance. He was pale and his eyes were huge.

"Are you okay?" I asked in spite of myself.

He shook his head and reached for my hand, "Lyric," he said, clearing his throat, "I need to tell you something."

"Crash," Taylor's voice was rough and cracked when he saw me.

"Later," I heard him whisper.

I looked from Garret to Taylor, and immediately forgot all about him. Taylor had blood on his shirt and hands, and his normally tan face was white as a sheet.

"Taylor!" I said, "Come here! Sit down!"

He muscled Garret out of the way and crawled up on the bed with me.

"Get the fuck off of there!" Garret cried out, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Let's go," Kell said to Garret, his voice deep and commanding. Garret crossed his arms, ignoring him and watching me. I would be amazed if anyone failed to do what Kell asked when he used that voice, but Garret looked determined to try.

"Garret," I asked after a moment, "Will you please give us a minute?"

"No," he said, almost childishly, "I'm not leaving you."

"Garret," I said quietly, "I need a moment."

I could see him struggling, but I needed to be alone with Taylor. He was paler than I had ever seen him, and all I could think was that he needed me. If I had to walk out of the hospital room dragging Taylor behind me in order to have privacy with him, I would. Garret must have recognized the seriousness of my expression, because he threw his hands up in the air, much like Kate had, before his face grew grave and threatening.

"You'll choose me," he said to me, just loud enough for the three of us to hear, "one day you'll choose me."

Taylor rose up on the bed next to me, radiating strength and protectiveness despite his pallor and slight trembling, "You're thirty years old, man, what is wrong with you?" he asked Garret.

Garret's face flushed angrily, and he turned on his heel, leaving us alone.

"I need to call Constance," Kell said under his breath, "He's getting worse. I'll be right outside," he told us, staring at both of us before following Garret out the door.

"I'm sorry," Taylor said, sitting back on the bed, "I just needed to be with you a moment. I know James is chomping at the bit to get in here, but…" he trailed off.

I turned my body to the side, though I was small, I was not small enough to lay with Taylor comfortably in this hospital bed. It was most definitely not made for two.

Taylor raised his arm so I could scoot closer. I was about to lay my head on his chest when he stopped, sitting up, and ripped off his shirt. He took his phone out and sent a quick text.

"James will be here soon," he told me, turning on his side and running his hand down my arm until he could grip my hand.

"Talk to me Taylor," I said quietly.

He sighed, "This," he waved his hand indicating the hospital room and my injury, "It reminded me… Kell.. all of us… of something that happened years ago."

He turned away from me until he was on his back and stared at the ceiling before he covered his face with his hands.

"You mean, me being hurt?" I clarified.

Taylor nodded, "I didn't know if Kell could take it," he said to himself, "If _I_ could take it. James will pretend that it doesn't affect him, that it's not reminiscent of…" he stopped and shook his head before continuing, "but I know he's upset. I know it does even if he won't say anything."

"Oh Taylor," I said, my heart breaking for them.

He opened his eyes, looking at me, "We'll be okay," he said, trying to reassure me, despite the anguish in his eyes, "We already are. Now that we've found you. It's just…" he paused, his eyes searching the ceiling tiles for answers, "it's hard to believe that you're real. That we have you and it's forever. It's hard for me to believe you won't be taken away because it's happened before."

I snuggled into his chest, being careful of the ache I could feel start pulsing at the back of my head while I pondered his words. I wondered about Taylor; where he came from, and what he meant when he said he worried I'd be taken away from him, that it had happened before. I didn't want to push him for answers he wasn't ready to give. But I could relate, l I knew what he meant, about being afraid.

"I understand," I told him, "even though I don't know exactly why you feel that way. I worry when I can't see you that you guys are just a dream. I'm afraid that I'm going to wake up; back in my crappy life, dodging Tim's hands, and sleeping in the woods."

Taylor took in a shaky breath.

"Sleeping in the woods?" I heard James ask, his voice tight.

I looked over to see him half in the room.

"Jamie," I called to him.

Taylor sat us both up, reaching out a hand to James who held out a green scrub shirt for him. He took it, pulling his arm away from me, and pulling the shirt over his head. He turned slightly, and right before he pulled it down, I saw a tattoo running the length of his ribs, reaching toward his heart. It was written in cursive, so it was a little hard to make out.

"What is 'advika'?" I asked, thinking I'd made it out, and moved closer to his chest, where I could see more writing I couldn't quite read since it appeared to be a different language. I moved to trace the letters with my fingertips, but Taylor stopped me before I could touch him.

"What does it say, Taylor?" I asked him, cocking my head to the side. I felt the answer to this was important, that it would give me the insight I needed to understand my guys better.

"Advika is a who, not a what," a voice said from the doorway. I looked up to see Garret leaning against the door frame, holding a coffee in one hand, "It's his dead girlfriend. And Kell's sister."


	42. I Need to Know- Taylor's Point of View

**I Need to Know- Taylor's Point of View**

My dead girlfriend.

The son of a bitch.

I stood up quickly from the bed and took a threatening step toward Garret. He stared at me in triumph, as if I was acting exactly as he hoped.

"Stop, Taylor," I heard Lyric's small voice call to me.

I turned around and saw her staring at me. Her eyes were full of tears that slowly spilled down her cheeks.

"Lyric," I said, apologizing. I was angry that Garret had brought Advika up before I was ready to talk about her, even though I had always planned on telling Lyric her story.

Garret walked past me, his shoulder bumping mine. This was his signature move, and the last time he did it to me. When I would have returned the gesture, James stopped me with a hand on my elbow.

"Here," Garret said, handing Lyric a pack of saltines, "The doctor said the pain meds might make you a little nauseated. You should try these."

He sat on the bed, hitching up one leg and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Advika was murdered by Kell's father. Kell found her and Taylor nearly went to prison for attacking the old man in retaliation, did I get it right?" Garret asked, a fake look of sympathy on his face, "It was horrible. I am very sorry for your loss, Taylor. I know you loved her very much."

Lyric gasped, "Taylor," she said, and turned to the other side of the bed, pulling off the blanket.

"What are you doing?" Garret asked, moving quickly to put his coffee on the bedside table, but she was faster than him.

She pulled out her IV and pulse oxygen monitors and took a step to me, wrapping her arm around my waist and pulling me into her. I was stiff for a moment, unsure, but she just squeezed me tighter.

"Taylor," she said, "I had no idea. I'm…" she squeezed me tighter and I slowly lifted my arms to embrace her.

I looked over her head at James, who stood as still as a statue, watching her in amazement, a look of utter devotion shining from his eyes.

Our girl was incredible. How did she have this capacity for love and sympathy?

Which reminded me…

"Thank you," I said to Garret, pretending he was being sincere, "It was horrible."

Lyric squeezed me again, any tighter and I wouldn't be able to breathe.

"What are you doing out of bed?" a disapproving voice asked from the door, "Are you that anxious to leave?"

I recognized the doctor who had met us in the emergency room. She wasn't much older than we were, and had an air of assurance that reminded me of James. It made me suspect she was possible Academy.

"You're the dad?" she asked Garret, turning around to check on Lyric.

Garret couldn't see her face from that angle and she gave me a wink. Yes, definitely Academy.

"No," Garret corrected, "Guardian."

"Oh," the doctor answered, "I thought because you had the same last name… and the age difference of course…"

"Can she leave?" Garret interrupted, throwing his empty cup into the garbage harder than needed.

"Yes," the doctor answered, "she's fine to go home. I don't think you need to wake her every hour. And she can go to school tomorrow, and I'm sending a prescription for painkillers with you for the stitches. You'll definitely have a headache," she said to Lyric, "If you do take the painkillers, you'll probably want to stay home because they can make you sleepy."

"Can I take ibuprofen?" Lyric asked.

I saw Kell creeping up in the hallway, rolling his eyes when he saw all three of us in the room, annoyed because he'd followed the rules while James and I hadn't, and we'd gotten more time with her than him.

Sorry, Kell.

I saw Kate holding a sleepy Marie, her thumb in her mouth as she rested her head on her mother's shoulders.

"We need to go Garret," Kate called, "Marie needs her nap and I need to put my feet up."

Garret sighed, running his hand through his short hair, "Hold on," he called to her.

The doctor put a clipboard in front of Garret, "Sign here please," she said, handing him a pen.

Garret signed and the doctor took back the clipboard, "Okay," she said, "Lyric is good to go. Rest up this afternoon."

"Thank you," Lyric answered quietly.

The doctor nodded at her and at Garret before leaving.

"Can one of you boys drive her home?" Kate asked.

"Kate," Garret interrupted, "I can bring her home."

"She needs to get changed Garret," Kate argued, her face flushing, "and I need to go home now. You are _my_ ride. _You_ are taking me home. The boys can just as easily bring Lyric home, and then you can go to work."

"Would you mind terribly, Mrs. Sorenson," James asked, in his best college-boy well-heeled society voice, "If she stayed at my place tonight? That way if she needs to get up, she won't be waking you and Marie. I know that you're expecting and I would hate for you to be tired tomorrow."

 _Well played James,_ I thought.

Kate nodded, even while Garret vigorously shook his head.

"We are not letting her spend the night at a teenage boy's house! Kate!" he argued.

"Garret," Kate said, her voice reflecting her lack of patience, "we are. Use a condom, please," she said to Lyric, "you don't want to get knocked up like your mother."

Lyric's face flushed and I saw her look down at the ground ashamed. What the actual fuck?

"James and Lyric are friends, Mrs. Sorenson," I told her.

Lyric continued to stare at the floor, though her eyebrows drew together, showing me she was listening.

"See?" Kate said to Garret, "now let's go," she finished in a voice that was both hard and mocking.

Garret took a breath as if to say something, but something on Kate's face made him close his mouth.

"Call us tomorrow, Lyric," Kate said, "let us know how you are. I hope that you can babysit. I'm getting more and more run down by this pregnancy. My feet are swollen two sizes," she said to Garret who looked unconcerned.

"I'll be fine to babysit," Lyric said, "I'll see you after school tomorrow. Thank you Kate," she said.

"Mrs. Sorenson," Kate corrected, a little meanly. It seemed that Kate had caught on to Garret's obsession and it brought out an undercurrent of hardness in her. The sooner we could get Lyric out of that house and away from this family, the better I, and my brothers, would feel.

Garret walked over to Lyric, "You call me if you need anything. It doesn't matter what time it is or where you are. If you need me, I'll come and get you."

Kate's mouth dropped open and I could see she finally understood the level of Garret's infatuation with Lyric. Her eyes narrowed and I saw her lip quiver.

"Garret!" she called out.

Garret squeezed Lyric's shoulder before turning to his family and walking out.

Kate stared at Lyric for another moment, "I…" she shook her head, and turned around, her shoulders tight and her posture stiff.

Lyric backed up to the bed, sitting down as if exhausted.

Kell came into the room immediately, scooping her up and into his lap before he sat in the nearby visitor's chair, "It'll be alright, Priya," he told her, cupping her head to rest on his shoulder.

"Yes," James said, "we have you all night and you can take a long bath and have a good night sleep. We'll all stay home from school tomorrow," he said, looking around the room, "I think we all need a break."

I nodded, a day at home would give Lyric time to recover, and time for us to talk to her, to tell her about Advika and answer any questions she had.

"That sounds perfect," Lyric answered, "Can we go now?

James was already scooping up clothes and personal items and stuffing them into a bag.

"Yes," he answered.

I walked over to Kell, holding out my arms. I know that he wanted to hold Lyric, but I needed her now. I didn't know if she'd let me close to her after I told her about Advika. I needed to feel her in my arms again, in case she changed her mind about me.

Kell must have seen the need on my face because he nodded, letting me scoop her up.

Lyric let out a surprised breath, but quickly settled into my arms, "Are you carrying me out of here?" she asked me.

"Yes," I answered, "it's me or a wheelchair."

"Oh," she said, "I'm fine with it. I was just checking. Can you make sure my butt's not hanging out?"

I heard Kell chuckle, and James came over with a blanket, tucking it over and around her before draping it across my arm.

"There," he said, "no one can see anything."

I followed him out of the hospital room, noticing that we were getting strange looks from some of the nurses, "Bye Lyric!" I heard the doctor call.

Lyric lifted her hand to wave, but then dropped it, like it took too much energy.

We walked quickly out of the building to my truck. Kell opened the passenger door, and then got inside, reaching down for Lyric. I took a step onto the running board before handing her over and climbing up after them. Kell immediately let me hold her again, and I gave him a grateful look. He reached over, unlocking the door for James, who climbed inside and took the keys, starting up the engine and driving away.

"This is a good look for you," Lyric told James, a small smile on her face, "I like it."

James smiled at her, his eyes getting all soft, like he'd never seen anything like her in his life. I knew the feeling.

James met my eyes, and I told him silently, _take the long way._ I looked at Kell, asking permission.

He nodded and I took a deep breath, "I want to tell you about Advika."

Just saying her name brought her face to the forefront of my mine. I could even hear her lyrical voice say my name.

I remembered the way her skin flushed in the humid Houston heat, the way she smelled, and how she felt in my arms, the first time I held her.

It had been just the two of us and her father was sleeping fitfully in his room. We had spent the day packing, getting ready for the move to Maine. She was so tired. Her father was like an infant. His days and nights were mixed up and he would wander around the house at night, getting into cupboards and making huge messes. We all took turns getting up with him, but she bore the brunt, often not waking us when she heard him moving around.

Despite the air conditioning, the house was still uncomfortably hot and sticky. Advika had sat on one of the boxes when we took a break, crunching ice and drinking a glass of water. She thought the box was filled to the top and would hold her weight, but it was one of the many book boxes that I'd purposely under-filled so I could lift it when the moving van came. She'd fallen right through the top, her water immediately spilling down the front of her shirt, then struggled helplessly to get out. When I could breathe from laughing, I'd reached under her arms to pull her out and tugged too hard. She'd landed in my arms and looked up at me with angry black eyes. Her hair had curled around her forehead and I'd pushed it back from her face. My eyes had dropped to her pink lips and before I could think about it too much, I'd kissed her. Her mouth was still cool from the ice cubes.

I closed my eyes, smiling at the memory. It didn't hurt anymore. It didn't make me feel confused or guilty. I didn't think it was time or perspective that had changed me; it was Lyric. It was loving her. It made me proud of my past, because it had turned me into someone who could try to be worthy of her.


	43. Advika

**Advika**

Taylor gave me a gentle squeeze and I reached over for his hands, pulling his arms tighter around me and looking up into his face.

"I would like very much to hear about her," I said, even though a small kernel of jealousy had just taken root in my heart. It was jealousy that had no place there, especially since I was currently in love with three people at the same time.

"My sister," Kell said, watching me closely, "was older than me by three years. She was about to turn twenty when she died."

"Kell's family came to Texas from England," Taylor told me, "and I met them both in high school there. It was right after I joined the Academy. Kell joined shortly after me and we saw each other in the halls at school. I ended up at his house most days after school, and then pretty much lived there…" Taylor trailed off and I got the feeling that he was reliving something.

"My dad wasn't sick then," Kell said, taking up where Taylor had left off, "he was just starting to get a little absent minded. He was a professor at Rice, and brilliant, so we just thought it was the new job, that perhaps he was overwhelmed."

"One night I was at Kell's," Taylor began again, "where were you?" he asked Kell.

"James and I were requesting the team appointments," Kell replied quietly.

"Right," Taylor said. I heard his head thump the back of the seat, "I'd forgotten."

"His dad had his first incident of aggression," Taylor went on, and I saw Kell's eyes watching me closely and I reached out a hand toward him, which he took, squeezing lightly, "he didn't recognize Advika and he attacked her when she came home from work."

"She was always his target for some reason," Kell interjected, "we could never figure out why." He shook his head, "Advika was able to explain how he was acting out of character and they brought him to the hospital, instead of the police station, where he was referred to a psychiatrist."

"What was the matter?" I asked, feeling both anxious and sad as I knew the story could only get worse.

"Dementia," Kell answered, "his brain was deteriorating and he was slowly losing a sense of who he was and who we were. Taylor lived with us full time, but because of my work with the Academy, he and Advika were my father's main care-givers. I wanted to keep him home…" Kell trailed off, "I shouldn't have. I should have recognized even then that he was too sick to be home, but I was so confident. I thought if I just devised a schedule, thought of all possible outcomes, that I could avoid trouble."

Kell's story was bringing up more and more questions for me. What work did he do for the Academy? How did he meet James? How did they end up a team?

But I would ask those questions later, I needed to focus. I waited silently for them to continue, afraid if I opened my mouth, all of my questions and fears and jealousies would come pouring out.

"Advika and I," Taylor started, "we were a team. It was the two of us against this monster that was changing her father, turning him into a different person. It was intense and sometimes dangerous, and we relied on each other. That intensity added this surreal feeling to everything… like we didn't have long to live either, that we weren't really two teenagers at the start of our lives…"

I couldn't help feeling like there were a lot of similarities between what Taylor was describing and what all four of us were experiencing. Things were intense, we were teenagers at the start of our lives. Were we moving too fast? I couldn't imagine feeling this way about anyone else in my life, but what Taylor was describing… was he saying that he felt this way before?

My stomach churned at the thought that he could be mistaking the way he feels for me for something else, pity or, I don't know, an adrenaline rush, him versus the world: again.

"Hey," Taylor said to me, holding my chin in his hand and pulling me back from the direction my thoughts had taken, "this is different. Trust me."  
I stared into his eyes, nodding even though doubt was slithering through me.

"I told Advika I loved her," he said, "and I did. But I didn't love her the way I love you."

I looked over at Kell quickly to see how he was dealing with Taylor's declaration, but he was nodding his head, as if it wasn't new information to him.

"I loved her because it was the first time in my life I felt like a man. I wasn't being beaten or hurt, I was stopping someone from being hurt. I was able to see myself in a way I never had before, both because of my Academy training and the confidence it gave me, and because of what I was doing with Advika. But Lyric," he said, his blue eyes staring into mine seriously, "I was never able to share the things with her that I share with you. It was the intensity of that situation that brought us together. She never told me she loved me. I knew she cared about me, but I think she cared about me because I was kind and understanding, not because something inside her answered a call from inside me," Taylor finished.

"Because that's how we are," Taylor said, "I knew the first day I met you, before we even spoke, that you were meant for me."

I watched him carefully and saw only truth in his eyes.

"You snuck into class and sat in the back. You never looked at anyone, just kept your head down and did your work. But when you were passing in your quiz, you looked up and I saw your beautiful green eyes," his thumb stroked my cheekbone and I couldn't look away from him, my eyes moving to his mouth as his lips shaped the most beautiful words I'd ever heard, "and I knew you were made for me. I tried to get your attention, to catch your eyes, but you were untouchable. Existing apart from everyone and everything. I wanted to talk to you, to hold you so badly, Lyric," Taylor said.

I felt a hand on my leg and another reaching for my shoulder, finger tips gently touching my collarbone, and I knew that James and Kell were telling me the same thing as Taylor.

"Advika was my first love," Taylor said honestly and I couldn't help the stab of pain I felt in my chest, "but you are person I will love until I die. I'm a different person because of Advika, someone who can love you the way you deserve."

"Advika's death changed all of us," James interjected, "but Lyric," he said, looking over at me before his eyes went back to the road, "you're it for us."

My eyes closed as I let his words sink into my skin.

"Lyric," Taylor said quietly, and I opened my eyes, struck by the fear and doubt in his eyes.

"You're it for me too," I answered, wanting to see my confident Tex again.

"We're home," James said, putting the truck in park.

I looked up surprised, "That was fast," I said.

James smiled at me, "I took the long way," he retorted.

"Oh," I answered, smiling, "I guess I just never keep track of time when I'm with you."

His eyes softened and his beautiful lips curled into a smile that I'm sure would have stopped hearts stronger than mine, "I love you Lyric Sorenson."

I smiled back at him, "I love you too," I answered, "forever and ever."


	44. Our Room

**Our Room**

James carried me inside.

It was weird, or strange, or some emotion I couldn't identify, but each challenge that we faced only brought us closer together. It made me more sure of how they felt about me, each doubt was allayed until I was more confident of their love, and I hoped, they were more confident of mine.

"You guys know," I said, as James carried me up the stairs and I could watch them over his shoulder, "that nothing could make me not love you, right?"

Kell's black eyes seemed to get even darker, but he nodded.

Taylor's eyes sparkled and his dimples deepened, "I know."

James stopped at the top of the stairs, "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling my face get hot, "You don't have to ask," I whispered.

His eyes searched mine, before he tilted his face toward me and pressed his lips to mine. I gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to nibble my lower lip.

I reached into his hair, holding his face to mine, "Jamie," I whispered into his mouth.

He gave a soft groan and deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting mine, tracing my lips and then delving back inside my mouth for another taste.

I heard a groan behind me before a muscled chest pressed against my back and light kisses traced the side of my neck. I reached a hand back, running my hand through the long locks: _Taylor._ My body was overwhelmed by sensation, making me out of breath and dizzy and euphoric all at once. My head fell back against Taylor's chest without me thinking and I zinged the back of my head, pulling in a quick injured breath.

"Guys," I heard Kell say in a tight voice.

Taylor gave me one last lingering kiss on my neck before he stepped away and James lightly tugged my lower lip before pulling back.

"Bed," he said, his eyes dark.

I nodded, my body aching, "Take me to bed," I told him.

It was like someone lit a fire under his feet, James moved so fast. I expected him to take me to his room, but he went to the end of the hall and opened the door to stairs I'd never seen before. He climbed up quickly, and I could hear the boys behind us, their treads heavy on the stairs.

My breath caught as my eyes landed on the room. It was at least twice the size of the room James had already given me, and was made almost entirely of windows. I could see the ocean from one side of the room, and tops of nearby houses through the other. But most of the room was taken up by an absolutely huge bed.

"Holy cow," I whispered.

James cleared his throat and looked down at me, his face pink. He looked unsure and glanced toward the other guys, who, when I looked at them, looked nervous.

I tapped James' chest, letting him know I wanted to get down. He slowly lowered me to the floor and I stood for a moment, looking around. My finger came up to my lip and I started walking around the perimeter of the room. I saw two doors, and opened the first. It was a huge closet, with room for the few things I owned and anything else I might ever buy for infinity.

"We can share this, right?" I asked, "it's way too much space for me," I said.

James nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket watching me closely, like I may run away at any moment.

I wasn't going anywhere.

The next door was a bathroom, and it was the size of my old room.

Kell cleared his throat, "We…um," he looked over at Taylor and James when I looked at him, "we wanted this to be our room. For all of us."

I nodded, my heart beating double time.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?" I asked, "I feel like I have hospital stuck to me."

"Of course," James answered, "I'm going to run downstairs to get your clothes."

"Okay," I said closing the door.


	45. Supernova

**Supernova**

I took my time in the shower, filling my hands with shampoo and scrubbing the strands of hair before cupping the water in my hands and dumping it over my head. The doctor hadn't said anything about my stitches getting wet, and I could feel my hair was crunchy with who knows what.

I carefully shaved my legs and under my arms, soaping up my body and trying to calm my racing heart. Would we all sleep in the bed together? What if someone was left out? I only had two sides, how would this work?

I heard a knock on the door and peeked from behind the curtain, "Yes?"

The door opened a crack, "Are you okay, Priya?" Kell asked.

I nodded, and then squeaked out, "Yes."

He came inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"I worried you might feel dizzy," he explained, his face slightly red from the heat or embarrassment, I couldn't tell.

"I'm okay," I answered, and then hesitated, watching Kell's face closely, "but you could stay while I finish up? Just in case?"

He nodded quickly, seeming to like the idea.

I pulled my head back into the shower and put my razor to the side. I hadn't felt dizzy before, but with just the shower curtain separating me and Kell, I did now.

"Can you hand me a towel?" I asked Kell after I shut off the water.

I reached a hand out of the curtain. I felt a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, and then one on my wrist and another just inside my elbow before a towel was placed in my hand. I slowly pulled my arm back inside the shower and wrapped the towel around me, shivering slightly at the emotions swamping me.

I pulled back the shower curtain and came face to face with Kell.

"Hi," he said, smiling.

"Hi," I whispered, pushing my wet hair from my face.

His eyes tracked my hand then slowly drifted down my face and neck before focusing on my chest. He looked up at my eyes quickly when he realized where he was looking.

"Sorry," he said embarrassed, his cheeks flaming.

"It's okay," I told him, smiling a little. I felt happy that he could be distracted by my body, I wanted him to be. I wanted to be everything that was pleasing and good for him.

I followed him into our room, "Where are Taylor and James?" I asked when I saw that no one else was there.

"Taylor is taking a shower downstairs," Kell answered, "and James is on the phone with Constance."

"Oh," I said,

"They agreed to give me a little bit of time with you," he added.

"Oh," I said, a little breathlessly.

I risked a glance at him.

He laughed, a little nervously and massaged the back of his neck, "I, um," he looked around.

"Are you okay?" I asked, stepping forward and laying my hand on his arm before looking up into his face.

Kell sighed and laughed again, this time without humor, "I don't know, Priya," he said.

I pulled him toward the giant bed, looking around once for clothes to change into, but when I didn't see any, dismissing them from my mind immediately. Kell wanted to talk to me and I didn't need clothes that.

I sat down and then moved until I could rest my back against the headboard. I patted the blanket next to me. Kell sat next to me, staring down at his knees.

"I want to be good for you, Lyric," Kell said, seriously.

I nodded, even though I wanted to argue with him.

 _You are good for me._ But I didn't say that; worried him might stop talking.

"But, I'm kind of fucked up," he said.

 _He wasn't, he was perfect._ Again, I didn't argue, I just waited.

"I had a hard time today," he began, staring at his hands again and then pushing up his sleeves.

I reached over for his hand and pulled it into my lap, wrapping both hands around it.

"I mean," he said, moving his other hand to mine and squeezing it, "Shit," he said taking his hands away from mine and rubbing his face.

I turned to face him, kneeling so I could grip his face between my hands and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"It's okay, My Kell," I said to him softly, looking into his dark tormented eyes, "whatever you want to tell me, or not tell me, it's okay."

"God dammit, Priya," he said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me forward so I was splayed messily across his body, "you're so fucking perfect."

I snorted into his chest, "Hardly."

His hands moved to my shoulders and across my slick wet back, making me shiver, "Fuck," he said, "you're freezing."

He quickly pulled the heavy comforter down, his hands drifting down my calves as he tucked me in. I pulled my breath in and his hands stopped at my knees. His eyes stared at my legs, stopping on my ankles before moving to my knees and then the very top of the towel.

"I want to touch you, Priya," he said, his voice low and husky; his accent thick. His eyes met mine and the passion I saw in them slayed me, "will you let me?"

I nodded, because my voice had disappeared, "Please," I answered, it was what I suddenly wanted more than anything in the world.

But he seemed frozen, his hands stayed on my legs, the comforter at my feet and I shivered again. That seemed to spur him into action because his body suddenly covered mine, pushing me down into the pillows. His hands pushed the towel apart until I could feel every part of me touching him. I wondered for a moment, if he noticed that I was completely naked, and when his hands met my hips and they trembled, I knew that he did.

He dropped his forehead to mine, breathing heavily, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Will you still be here when I open my eyes?" he asked.

I followed his arms with my fingers until I could touch his neck and move them through his soft black hair.

He kept his eyes closed but I kept mine open as I touched my lips to his.

I pulled back, searching his face, trying to gauge his reaction and then pressed my lips to his once more, whispering against them, "I'm here."

His eyes opened and they burned into mine. He watched me carefully while he lowered his mouth to mine, and keeping them open while he kissed me. I wanted to watch him too, I really did, but my eyes closed and then I was lost in the sensation of Kell. His lips were soft, and I could feel his beard. It was soft too, not scratchy. I let my hands move from his hair to his face. I cupped his cheeks, letting my fingers stroke over his cheekbones and down to his jaw.

Kell's tongue lightly touched my lips, as if asking permission to go further. I opened without hesitation and his tongue dipped into my mouth. He lightly stroked my tongue with his and then shocked me by sucking my tongue into his mouth and stroking it again. I groaned and arched into him.

His hand pressed on my hip, pushing me back to the bed, while his other hand moved behind my back and down until he could cup my bottom in his hand.

"Too much?" he asked.

I shook my head and pulled his face to mine again. One of his hands moved past my hip until he could grab in knee and wrap my leg around his waist. The denim of his jeans pressed between my legs, but instead of chafing, it felt good, a strange frisson of pleasure/pain that I wanted to repeat, and so I arched into him again. I could feel him, hard and huge, alongside the zipper of his jeans, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to feel him, to feel if his skin was as soft as the skin on his face.

I moved my hand from his face and down his arm between our bodies. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I really wanted to touch him. I cupped my hand slightly and rubbed along the length of him, then used my finger tips to make out his shape.

He sucked in a breath, "Fuck, Priya," he said, opening his eyes again and watching me.

I wanted to see his face when I touched him, to see if I could read what felt good to him.

But feeling him through his jeans wasn't enough, so with my other hand I tried to undo the buttons and zipper on them. Kell adjusted his body and covered my hands with his own.

"Stop, Priya," he said breathlessly, "stop."

I pulled my head back and zinged the back of my head, grimacing.

"Oh, Priya," Kell said concerned, "are you alright?"

I nodded, not wanting to talk about myself, desperate to get back to what I had started. My fingers finally got his button undone, but he stopped me again.

"Lyric," he said, and I looked up at him, "You…" he cleared his throat and shook his head, "you don't have to… I don't want you to feel like you have to…"

I let my fingers dip below the waist of his pants. I could feel springy silky hair and pushed my fingers a little further, until the zipper stopped me.

"My Kell," I said, keeping my eyes on him as I attempted to unzip his pants, "please."

He squeezed his eyes shut, and then he was helping me. Unzipping his pants and then sitting up on the bed to peel them off his body and drop his jacket to the ground until he was left clad in boxers and a t-shirt. He crawled over me, and I couldn't help looking at his lap, and noticing that his boxer briefs were tented in front.

I laid back on the pillow and pulled him down on top of me.

It was an incredible feeling: skin against skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist, opening myself to him fully, and dipped my hand into his boxers until I could grasp him fully in my fist. I curled my fingers around him, reveling in the way his skin felt hot and smooth, and how when I moved my hand, he was so very hard.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" I asked.

His eyes were closed and his forehead furrowed as he shook his head.

"Oh God, Lyric," he said, keeping his eyes closed as I moved my hand, "please don't stop."  
I didn't want to stop. I wanted to continue whatever it was I was doing that was making him look like that.

He rested his body against mine and flexed his hips into my hand. Our hands were stuck between our bodies and I felt his large fingers start to dip inside my folds. One finger would curl, circle, and tease me, and the run from back to front, circle, and repeat the motion.

Soon I was pressing my hips into his and small cries were leaving my mouth. We were kissing without me remember who had kissed whom. His tongue ravaged me, undid me, and remade me while his fingers made me arch into him desperately.

"Kell!" I cried out, feeling a warm burn begin in the soles of my feet and move up my body. I pressed my heels into the bed and raised my knees. They fell open, an invitation for him to press deeper inside me, to circle me faster and faster. My own hand moved up and down his length. Kell let out tiny voiced gasps, urging me on.

"Lyric," he warned me, "I'm going to cum if you don't stop."

I didn't know exactly what he meant, but I wanted to find out. I wanted him to feel as good as I could possible make him feel.

"I don't want to stop," I whispered, even while his fingers pressed inside me, thrusting and withdrawing. He twisted his wrist, pressing inside me while his thumb strummed that place I was learning could turn me inside out.

I was so close to that place. I pulled my mouth away from Kell's and moved to bury my face into the pillow.

"No," he growled, his hips thrusting in time with his fingers, "I want to see your face. I want to watch you while you fall apart."

I couldn't deny him anything, and so I kept my eyes fixed on his. His mouth grew tight, his head falling forward and I felt a sudden wash of warm liquid across the back of my hand and my stomach.

Then I fell apart.

I twinkled like a thousand stars and burned out before flaring back to life. I was a supernova that once ignited couldn't stop blazing.

Kell's lips pressed against mine, and his hand slowly removed mine from his body.

"Beautiful," he said, when my eyes opened, "I want to do that again. I want to watch you come again and again and again for the rest of our lives."

I smiled at him, "Okay," I whispered.


	46. Is This What It'll Be Like?

**Is this what it'll be like?**

Kell kissed my lips, lingering with each press. I gently removed my hand from around him and he gave a little shudder.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, worried.

"No," he answered, "just sensitive."

I looked down, between our bodies. I had never seen a naked man before, and I looked up quickly, worried I might embarrass him.

"You can look at me, Lyric," he told me, chuckling a bit, "I don't mind, but wait just a minute."

He jumped up, pulling his underwear back over his hips and leaving his jeans unbuttoned while he went into the bathroom. I heard the water running and I made a move to follow him, but didn't, when I couldn't find the towel from my shower. I brought my hand to my head to push the wet hair from my face when I was distracted by the liquid pale, rope-like liquid still on my hands.

"Here," Kell whispered, returning with a wash cloth and cleaning off my hands and tummy. He threw it into the bathroom before jumping into the bed with me.

"You're still dressed," I said, a little disappointed.

Kell laughed, and rolled onto his side so he could prop his head on his hand.

"I am," he said.

"Are you going to sleep in your jeans?" I asked.

His face was still a little flushed, and his eyes darkened at my words.

"I don't usually," he answered, using his finger to lift my chin and press his lips to mine again.

I heard a sharp rasp on the door and then James was poking his head in.

"Are you getting up for dinner?" he asked, "or is this a pizza in bed night?" he smiled.

"Pizza in bed?" I squeaked, taken with the idea, "can we do that?"

James looked a little surprised and then he laughed, "We can do that if you want to," he answered amused.

"What can we do?" Taylor asked, coming inside and sitting on the edge of the bed.

I was suddenly very aware that all the guys were clothed while I was completely naked under the covers. I was also aware that Kell was shirtless and rumpled, and had an air about him that made me think it was really obvious that we had just done something.

My face flushed and Taylor and James exchanged a glance with Kell.

"Pizza in bed," Kell answered, "Priya wondered if we could eat dinner in bed."

"Hmmm," Taylor answered, "pizza is pretty greasy and crumby to do in bed."

"Oh," I answered, disappointed.

"Hey," Taylor said, capturing my attention, "I don't care if you don't."

I shook my head, "No," I answered, feeling excited, "Can we watch a movie and eat pizza?"

James laughed again, "Of course we can," he answered, "Taylor, go get the pizza and plates with from downstairs. Kell, help me with drinks. Lyric, pick a movie."

James stood and tossed me a remote after pressing a button. From above the bureau in front of the bed, a projector lowered from the ceiling. I looked down at the remote and then at the projector with wide eyes.

"Okay," I replied, sure that I would never figure out how to find anything to watch with something as complicated as a ceiling television.

Taylor leaned over, kissing me on the lips, "We'll be right back," he said, "pick whatever you want."

I nodded, sitting up and tucking the covers under my arms before resting against the headboard.

Taylor watched me, his face soft and his eyes alight with a look I was coming to recognize and anticipate.

"We'll be back," James said, walking to the bed and tipping my head back for a kiss. His tongue grazed my lips before he nibbled my lower lip, "we just need to wait for the pizza guy."

They left the room, Kell grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, and Taylor punching him in the shoulder. It wasn't in an angry way, and I could hear them laughing down the stairs, their footsteps loud and hurried. I put the remote on the bed next to me and snuggled down under the covers, a sudden lethargy coming over me. There was no way I was touching that remote; they would just have to choose a show with me when they came back.

I pulled my arms under the covers and burrowed onto my side, rubbing my face against the soft pillow and closing my eyes. I wondered if I could guess what kinds of movies they liked. I started listing movies, thinking of movie posters I'd seen as I'd biked through town, and of movies I liked that I'd want to see again.

I wondered if they'd watch _The Goonies_ with me. I yawned hugely. I really loved that movie, with the water slides, and the organ of bones, and the treasure. I pulled the covers up to my ears and listened for the boys, but heard nothing.

 _James' golden eyes burned into mine. He was wearing only a pair of briefs, the very tip of his…_

 _"_ _We don't have to do anything," James said, pulling my attention back to his face as Taylor kissed my naked shoulder._

 _I shook my head, "No," I said, "I want to… I'm just nervous," I said, "and excited," I clarified, "and worried I'm going to mess it up."  
"There's no way," James said, pulling me toward him, "Anything with you will be perfect." _

_I nodded, staring up at his golden brown eyes. He scooped me into his arms, and brought me into the bedroom. Kell was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting against his knees, staring down at the floor when we came in. He stood up quickly, and I could see he was just as nervous as me. James put me down and I crossed the floor to him; not taking my eyes off of his._

 _I reached out my hand towards his and he took mine. I pulled him toward the bed, crawling up and letting the towel I had wrapped around me, fall off._

 _Kell's eyes darkened and his mouth opened on a gasp, "Lyric," he breathed, looking at me wonderstruck._

 _I couldn't believe I had that much power over him. I sat back on my heels, waiting for him; for all of them. I felt the bed move and lips touched my shoulder blade. The slight burn told me it was Taylor, who was always a little scruffy. I felt him kissing his way across my back, sucking at the skin and licking me. Kell's eyes looked past me and he nodded, kneeling on the bed and gently cupping my neck in his hand._

 _"_ _If you want to stop," he told me, looking down into my eyes seriously, "all you have to say is stop. It will be fine."  
_

 _I leaned forward, keeping my eyes on his while I pressed my lips against his chest. My hands came up to press against his skin; the tips tickled by the light dusting of hair, "I trust you," I told him._

 _"_ _God, Priya," he said, and took my mouth._

 _I had the feeling that he kissed me the way he would make love to me._

 _The thought raced across my brain, and I felt my cheeks blush._

 _I loved them, this was okay. I was okay._

 _Kell's tongue pressed and retreated against mine, his lips moving and his breath washing across my face. I felt hands tracing up my rib cage, and then lips were fastened to my breast._

 _I cried out against Kell's mouth at the sudden rush of heat overwhelming my body. I looked down to see James lightly tracing my nipple with his tongue. He looked up at me, smiling slightly before closing his eyes and going back to my breast. I let one of my hands drop from Kell's chest to lace through James' hair, keeping him attached to my breast. I felt Taylor's hands trace my hips as his lips moved to my neck._

 _Oh my god, how was I going to survive this?  
There were so many emotions and sensations coursing through my body. Each pair of hands felt so different, each touch of lips elicited a different feeling. _

_I felt Taylor shift behind me, pulling me back and down until I was between his legs. His legs came up on either side of mine before snaking between them and pulling them wide. My first instinct was to slam my knees together, but looking down at Kell and James, both of whom looked at me with barely controlled hunger, I let them fall open._

 _Taylor's hands played at my ribs, running the backs of his hands up and down my sides before reaching over and gently cupping my breasts._

 _As he lightly ran his palms over my nipples, my head fell back against his chest and my eyes closed. I felt Kell begin kissing his way over my knee to my inner thigh. James' lips took the place of one of Taylor's hands while his other hand trailed along my belly, between my legs, and along my folds._

 _"_ _James!" I cried out, and then his lips were on mine._

 _His face was so soft. I trailed my hand down his back, feeling the muscles, remembering the way we had named them last night and smiled against his mouth._

 _He smiled and pulled back, looking into my eyes, his fingers playing between my legs. He pulled his hand away and kept his eyes on mine before inserting one finger into his mouth._

 _My eyes widened in shock and I felt Taylor laugh behind me, just as Kell's lips touched between my legs._

 _They were going to kill me. I was going to have a heart attack. I hope they enjoyed the time I had left, because they may be carrying my lifeless body out of here._

 _Just as Kell's lips closed around a place on my body that made me snap like a rubber band and cry out in pleasure, my eyes flew open._

"Lyric," Taylor whispered, his lips skimming across my cheek.

I groaned.

I had been so close to that feeling again; the one that made me hot and tight. I pressed my thighs together to relieve the feeling being swollen between my legs.

"What were you dreaming Crash?" he asked, his face a millimeter from my own.

I had a feeling my face was as flushed as my body felt.

He raised his eyebrows, "That good, huh?" he asked, his voice husky.

"What's going on?" Kell asked, and I gripped the sheets and sat up.

"Our girl fell asleep," Taylor answered, winking at me and giving me a crooked smile.

"Oh, Priya," Kell said, setting the pizza boxes on a table, "are you feeling alright?"

"I think she's feeling a little frustrated," Taylor joked, and I dropped my face to my hands.

"Don't tease her," James voice carried to me, and I felt hands pulling mine away, "You're sleepy from that hit," he said, and then gave the other boys a look.

 _What was it with all the looks?  
_

James laughed again, "Sorry," he said, "we're been around each other so long that we forget to include other people in our conversations sometimes."

"It's fine," I said, feeling too tired, and a too little embarrassed and hungry, to get into it.

"No," James answered, "we want to talk about what happened in the locker room, and about how you got hurt, but we can wait until tomorrow. That's what I was saying."

 _Oh._

They were going to be angry when I told them about Riley, and they were going to mad that there wasn't really anything they could do. I would have to find a way to placate them, because in a way, I felt like I had handled it Riley. Like maybe I'd come to some kind of understanding with her, and at the very least, she would think twice about intimidating me again.

I felt James still looking at me, so I nodded my head because it seemed like they were waiting for an answer.

Taylor gave me a quick kiss on my lips before going over to the pizza box and opening it up. He put a slice on a plate and brought it to me.

I reached for it, but stopped midway, clearing my throat, "Um, can I borrow a shirt?"

"You still have clothes here," James answered, "I think I put pajamas in the bureau."

He opened up the drawers and found me a sleep shirt, bringing it over to me.

He held it above my head, "Arms up," he directed.

"Bossy," I joked, and reached a hand for the shirt.

He looked like he wanted to hold it back, but after a moment and a narrow-eyed glare, he gave it over. I scrunched down under the covers and pulled the shirt over my head quickly, shoving my arms through the holes and sitting up, holding out my hands for the pizza.

Taylor handed it to me.

I folded the slice in half, closing my eyes in anticipation and bit into the end. The cheese melted over my tongue and I could feel the sauce escape from the sides of my mouth.

I groaned. It was so good. I swallowed and darted my tongue out to lick up the extra sauce before taking another bite. I groaned again. I was so hungry. When I opened my eyes, Taylor was staring at me wide-eyed.

"What?" I asked, after I swallowed. I put my hand up to my mouth, running my finger along my lips to feel if I'd made a mess, "is there something on my face?"

Taylor shook his head. I saw the muscle in his jaw tick, like he was clenching his teeth, and his hand raked through his hair.

"Slice?" I heard Kell ask him, his voice heavy with amusement.

"Laugh it up," Taylor said, turning around and taking the proffered plate a little aggressively, "one of these days you're going to be late to the party and I'm the one who's going to have that look on my face."

I had just taken another bite and choked, realizing what Taylor was insinuating. He turned around quickly and started pounding on my back as my eyes watered and I struggled not to spit out the semi-masticated pizza.

I managed to swallow and take the soda that James was holding out to me, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

I took a big swallow and saw all of the boys had the same wicked grin on their faces.

I calmed my breathing, giving James a look of gratitude while the boys got their dinners and sat on the bed with me. James turned on the t.v. and began flipping through channels, finding something he liked and tossing the remote aside.

I waited until all of the boys had food in their mouths before speaking.

"So this party," I began, "I get to come, right?"


	47. She Didn't Really Think it Through

I fell asleep hard and fast and there might have been a crust of pizza clenched in my hand; that was what Taylor said later the next day, but I didn't believe him.

I wondered what had happened to change me so quickly from a girl with nothing, to a girl with everything; three everythings as a matter of fact.

I woke up pillowed on James' chest, with Kell spooned to my back. When I picked my head up, I could see Taylor asleep next to James, an arm thrown over his eyes.

So this was how we slept.

I laid my head back on James' chest. I felt a small prickle of unease about the wrongness of sleeping with three guys at once, but then I dismissed it. They had designed this room for us, they found a bed big enough to fit all of us. It must be fine with them.

My dream from the night before had opened my eyes to what it meant to be with three guys. I shifted my legs as heat pooled low and heavy in my belly.

"Stop wiggling," James whispered, kissing my forehead and squeezing me tightly.

"Give her here," I heard Taylor say, and then James was rolling me up and over his body into Taylor's waiting arms.

"Got the jimmy legs?" he asked me, kissing my lips gently and making me sigh in contentment.

I nodded and he turned onto his side so my face was pressed against his chest. I kissed him gently and he kissed the top of my head in return.

He began to stroke his hand up and down my arm, and I focused on that sensation, until it put me back to sleep.

The boys let me sleep in the next morning, and I must have slept hard because I didn't hear them move or feel the bed shift when they got out. When I did finally join them in the kitchen, it was nearly time for lunch.

"I don't think I've ever slept that long," I said, stretching and taking the iced coffee drink from Kell's outstretched hand.

I opened the top and gave the drink a tentative sniff, "What's this?" I asked.

"Frappucino," he said, "they're a girly drink that Taylor likes."

Taylor was talking on the phone, and he flipped Kell the bird before returning to his conversation.

I looked questioningly in his direction, "Constance," Kell answered.

"Look at us," I said smugly, "conversations without words..."

"Hey Beautiful," James said, coming up behind me and kissing me on the cheek, "Let's check out those stitches." He parted my hair carefully and examined my head, "You've got a lump, but I didn't realize you'd only needed three stitches. That was a lot of blood for such a tiny cut."

Kell's face got serious quickly, and he pulled a chair from the table, nodding at me and looking at the chair commandingly.

I held out against the urge to roll my eyes at him, and sat down

"So what happened yesterday?" Kell asked me seriously as James put a few slices of crusty bread in front of me along with butter and a small glass jar of preserves.

I reached out for a slice of bread and pulled off a chunk nervously.

"I think one of the baskets stored on top of the lockers fell off when we bumped into it, and hit me on the back of the head," I answered.

"When you say, 'we,'" Kell asked suspiciously, "you mean you and the girl?"

"Riley," James interjected.

I took a bite of the bread and chewed slowly, nodding.

"Did she attack you, Lyric?" Kell asked.

I took a gulp from my drink and set it down nervously, "No," I said slowly, "I believe she meant to, but I kind of... made it clear...that it wouldn't end well for her."

Kell watched me disbelievingly before bursting out in laughter, "What?" he asked, trying to stop laughing.

"I just..." I felt a smile growing on my lips, "I let her know that I came from the wrong side of the tracks and that I had no problem with an ugly fight. I don't think she realized how messy they can get."

Kell sat back in his chair, covering his mouth with his hand with shaking his head, "So you...?"

"Told her how clothes get ripped and hair gets torn, and that everyone would see us," I burst out.

James sat next to me, and leaned forward, "Genius," he said, "how'd you know that would work?"

"She's perfect," I answered quietly, "her makeup, and clothes, and hair. Even when I see her in gym class, she's perfect. Perfect pony tail, perfect sneakers. That girl's never been a mess in her life. I, on the other hand, have been a mess for as long as I can remember."

James' lips got tight and he bit the inside of his cheek, "You're not a mess, Lyric."

"It's okay," I answered quickly, not wanting them to think I was looking for sympathy, "I'm just saying, I've walked around covered in salad dressing before, a naked locker room fight with another girl actually gave me an advantage."

Kell spit his coffee all over the table, spraying the bread and my arm, and coughing crazily.

James laughed and turned around to pound him on the back.

"Riley was the one who told us you'd been hurt," he said turning around to look at me.

"I think I scared her," I answered thoughtfully, "I really don't think she thought it out, actually hurting someone, I mean."

Kell stood up, gathering up the mess and throwing it into the garbage before coming back and wiping up the table.

"I don't think she'll try anything like that again," I said, "but I don't think we'll end up friends."

James shook his head, "Probably not," he replied, "but we only have a few more weeks until you officially join the Academy."

"Less," Taylor said, hanging up the phone and kissing my head before scooping me up and sitting me on his lap as he sat in my chair.

James raised a questioning eyebrow, "What did Constance say?"

"She got a call from Kate Sorenson," Taylor answered, watching me carefully, "she and Garret have decided that it was a hasty decision to take over your guardianship. Constance has assured them you'll be better off at the Academy, and they'll send you as soon as a space opens."

"Any estimates?" James interrupted.

Taylor smiled, "Could be anytime," he answered, "they'll sign over guardianship and then we'll be good to go as soon as it's processed by the court."

"How?" I asked, confused.

The smile left Taylor's face, "The hospital," he answered, not quite meeting my eyes, "Kate sensed something was going on. She..." he shook his head, raising one corner of his mouth wryly, "doesn't matter..."

I wanted to push him, to see what changed, and though I suspected Kate recognized that Garret's feeling toward me weren't normal, I also sensed there was something more to the story.

"It doesn't matter, Lyric," Taylor answered, holding my gaze and squeezing me a little tighter, "all that matters is that you'll be with us soon, and we won't have to worry about anyone taking you away again."


	48. Kell's Point of View: 8 Years Later

A/N: Thank you to Jordiscy for being a go-between and potionsmstrs (thank you thank you) for letting me steal one of her awesome characters for a one-liner.

 **Kell- Eight Years Later**

I looked around the room at the candidates seated in a semi-circle. I hated the semi-circle; it always made me feel like a quack. I was asking these kids to trust me and each other, and I'd just put them in some bloody kumbaya circle.

"Dr. Garewal," one of the girls said, one kitten-heeled shoe clicking lightly on the floor as she adjusted in her seat, "stop fixating on the circle. We all agreed we can deal with the circle."

This girl reminded me a little of Lyric, she was insightful and strong; calling me on my bullshit.

"Right," I answered, a little ashamed, "sorry Sarah. We were talking about pain."

One of the boys across from us crossed his arms, a firmly defensive posture.

Owen.

He was new to the group, and according to Phil and Constance, a born leader. It was just that, like many of us at the Academy, he had a violent and traumatic past; one he never spoke of, but one that could severely hamper his ability to move ahead, make progress, and lead effectively.

Taylor had noticed him right away during basic training; he talked about how he waited for slower candidates, how he found their strengths and exploited them.

But he'd noticed too, the lack of emotion.

"He's like you, Kell," Taylor said worriedly one night at dinner, "right before you lost it."

Psych evals were mandatory at the Academy, and therapy was part and parcel of training. People couldn't be on a team without facing their pasts. They needed to know their triggers and hot buttons.

I'd spent years working on mine, and I still found new ones. James had just pointed one out yesterday, the wanker.

"Pain," I said, "and trauma. Let's talk about what it does to your brain."

It was always easier to start these things dispassionately, clinically, before moving into the personal.

I stood up and moved to the white board and heard a chorus of groans, "Not the white board!"

"Jesus, Garewal," someone said, "this isn't a college course."

I turned around with a narrow-eyed glare before flashing the kid a smile. I wanted them to share, and when I let my emotions show, they were more likely to show their own. I was human, I got annoyed and frustrated. It was okay.

I saw one boy leaning forward anxiously, his elbows on his knees, waiting for me to begin drawing.

The Green boy. He wanted to be a doctor. He loved anything clinical or detailed. Phil had already arranged his courses; he was one his way to becoming a full fledged medical doctor by nineteen.

"Right," I said "so this is your brainstem. It's the most animalistic part of your brain and sends signals to your body to fight, flee, or freeze. It also controls the autonomic nervous system; which is the system that readies your body to do any of those things. You need to run? Your brain starts shutting down anything that isn't absolutely necessary for running. You don't need to be hungry to run, you don't need to go to the loo to run," that got a laugh, "you just need more blood flowing to your heart, your muscles, and your lungs. Think of it like this, rather than stopping to ask your brain if something is right, you brain has a direct line from your sensory system, your eyes, your skin, your ears, right to your brainstem. You hear a bang, your brainstem interprets it as danger, and your entire body readies to fight. It bypasses all of the smarts you have, and goes right to survival."

These kids were smart. They knew when I talked about survival I was talking about them.

"In the Academy, we take jobs that are challenging. We need to know our triggers before we take these jobs. If we don't, we can let our teammates down, we can let ourselves down, and the people we care about can get hurt."

"What are your triggers?" the boy, Owen asked, his grey eyes challenging me.

There was always one who asked this question.

"My teammates know my triggers," I replied, "but since I want you to trust me, I'll trust you with one of mine..." I took a deep breath, "bait," I answered.

"Bait?" he asked me, confused.

"Yeah," I answered, "sometimes, our female Academy members are used as bait in situations that could be dangerous for them. They could be hurt, attacked, raped. I have to keep a clear head, and not let my worry and my desire to protect them from trusting their instincts and skills. So, jobs with bait, that is a trigger."

Owen sat back, his posture a little more relaxed.

We were getting somewhere.

I released the group a little while later. I watched Owen and the Green kid, fall into step together. _Interesting._

"Kell!"

I looked over from erasing the white board and smiled, "Hey," I answered, "I didn't expect to see you."

The woman in front of me crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, she yawned and covered her mouth with one hand, "Sorry," she apologized, "how'd it go?"

"Fine," I answered, "they're a good group. It's amazing, really, that they can be so open to discussing their pasts. I'm always blown away by their trust."

"They can tell," she said, walking into the room, and sitting carefully in one of the folding chairs, "that you're safe."

I ran my hand through my hair.

"It's getting long," she said, watching my hand, "you're starting to look swarthy."

I laughed, "Arrr," I said, "like a pirate."

She giggled and I sat across from her.

"What happened with the lead?" I asked seriously.

The light immediately left her eyes and she shook her head, "I'm..." she stopped, "it was a dead-end," she looked into my eyes sadly, "I'm sorry I got your hopes up."

I reached across and took her hand in mine, "I'm going next time," I said, "no arguments. I don't care what the Academy says. "

"Kell," she sighed, lifting my hand to her cheek and rubbing my knuckles across her skin, "you'd kill him if you saw him."

I felt my skin get hot and tight, and I took my hand away from her face, afraid that I might clench my fists and squeeze too hard.

"He took her from us," I said, looking away, "he hurt..." I had to stop and clear my throat, "He'd be lucky if I just killed him."

"And you wonder why the Academy won't let you go," she retorted, not unkindly.

I rubbed a hand across my forehead and felt my throat tighten as I did every time I thought about her.

I was a failure.

"It's not your fault," she said, reading my mind, "I know what you're thinking, and it's no one's fault. It just _was_..."

"Dr. Garewal?" I heard a voice ask from the doorway.

We both turned around and saw Owen in the doorway.

"I'll see you later," she told me, and stood up, smiling at Owen and leaving. I watched her go and Owen watched me watch her.

"I was wondering," he asked, giving me a millimeter smile, "if we could find a time to talk."


	49. Sick Days

I had a lovely, lazy, stay-home day, and woke up the next morning to be informed I would have yet another lovely, lazy day.

I did homework at the kitchen table, and when my head started to pound, James brought me tea and ibuprofen.

I looked up at him in surprise.

"You're rubbing your temples," he told me, "and you've been staring at that problem for two minutes."

I blew across the top of the tea before tossing the pills in my mouth and taking a sip.

"Thank you," I said after I swallowed.

He smiled at me and gently pushed my hair from my face. He sat down next to me at the table, and turned my notebook toward him.

"How's it going?" he asked, looking over my problems.

"Fine," I answered.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "the Academy will help you find a profession that interests you, so you can gear your course of study to match that profession," James told me, turning the notebook around and pointing with one elegant finger to a problem I needed to fix.

I bit on the eraser of my pencil and stared at it, trying to find where I'd made a mistake before erasing it and starting over.

"Something with math or science, I think," I answered, "maybe engineering? I don't know. I honestly hadn't thought beyond staying in high school."

I tapped my pencil on my notebook, a sudden rush of excitement coursing through me as a future of potential jobs played through my mind, "Maybe nursing? I would have a job if I was a nurse. They always need nurses, right?"

James smiled.

"They do. But, Lyric," James said, "We want you to do whatever you're interested in, regardless of whether you could find a job or not."

I smiled, looking around James' house; had he ever worried about money or supporting himself?

"Where are your parents?" I blurted out, and watched James' face pale, his lips tighten and that tell-tale muscle begin ticking in his jaw. I realized just how tactless I was and covered my mouth with my hand, "I'm sorry," I said, backtracking, "you don't have to tell me. That was so rude."

I stood up and started gathering my books, mortified I'd been so blunt.

"Lyric," James placed his hand on my arm, "It's okay."

I nodded, and he sighed, looking down at the ground. His brown hair fell forward onto his forehead and I reached up, pushing it away from his face. His eyes met mine and softened. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me forward, holding me lightly by the waist before dipping his head and pressing his lips to mine.

He teased my lips, pressing a kiss to my lower lip, and then lightly tracing my lip with his tongue. I reached up one hand, cupping his jaw, and opening my mouth. His tongue dipped inside, and then he lifted me up and deposited me on the table before his hands moved to my knees and pulled them apart, making room for his body to press against mine.

I could feel him, hard and long against my center and I arched, trying to get closer and ease some of the ache I could feel building between my legs.

"Jamie," I breathed as he tore his mouth from mine and began kissing my neck. I turned my head, giving him more skin to kiss. I felt his teeth lightly graze the cord in my neck and I moaned.

"Lyric," he said, one hand tunneling into my hair and holding the back of my head gently, aware of the still-healing wound on my head, while the other pressed at my lower back keeping me in contact with his body.

I pulled my head back slowly, looking up to meet his eyes. The beautiful golden-brown was just a ring around the huge pupil.

"I want you so much," he told me, and gently flexed his hips.

My head felt heavy and my eyes closed. I wanted that, too.

"Jamie," I whispered and his mouth covered mine again.

"Oh shit! Sorry," I heard a female's voice say.

I made a move to jerk my head back, but James gave me a small warning squeeze on my neck and pressed one more kiss to my lips before pulling back.

I looked over his shoulder, face flaming, and saw Constance watching us with an amused glance.

"I did ring the doorbell," she apologized, a small blush appearing on her face as well.

I looked back at James, who seemed to be waiting for me to meet his eyes and gave me a rueful glance.

"Your timing is impeccable," James said, "Lyric was just asking me about my parents, do you have some news about them?"


	50. Family is a Choice

I watched James' face, but he turned his back to me so he could look at Constance.

"So, to which non-extraditing country have they moved now?" he asked Constance, his posture stiff, despite the way he nonchalantly put his hands in his pockets.

"They're in the Maldives," Constance told him, her eyes moving to mine before back to James.

"Have they tried to access our accounts?" he asked her.

"No," Constance answered, "they haven't tried to do that again."

My eyebrows drew together and I waited, either for one of them to explain, or for someone to ask me to leave. Silence descended upon the kitchen, and James continued to watch Constance.

"I'll let you two talk," I said finally, picking up my books and moving toward the door.

I heard James sigh, and then he came up behind me, taking my books from my hands and tossing them back to land heavily onto the table.

"Don't leave," he said, sitting down, and pulling me onto his lap before wrapping his arms around me, "I'll explain everything." I wrapped my hands around one of the hands that laid on the table and kissed the back of it in encouragement.

I heard one of the chairs scrape against the floor and Constance sat across from us.

"The Academy is helping me keep track of my parents," James said, "they aren't..." he stopped, "they aren't good people."

I squeezed his hand again as I waited.

"How far back should I go?" he asked, and I got the feeling he was asking both Constance and himself.

She shrugged, "Might as well start at the beginning," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Alright," he started, his voice low, "my family has a lot of money. It's money we've had a long time, passed down through generations. I couldn't spend it all if I tried."

I nodded, but I really had no concept of what he was saying. How did someone have so much money that they couldn't spend all of it in their lifetime?

"My great great great grandfather, he made investments that are still paying off. We have mineral rights, rights to oil reserves... 'money breeds money,' that's what my grandfather told my mother, and what my mother told me. She and my father," he paused, "for some reason, what we had was not enough."

He shook his head, "I don't know what they could have possibly wanted that we didn't have, that they couldn't get..."

"When did you join the Academy, James?" I asked, a sickening feeling coming over me.

"Right after," he said, looking at our joined hands, "right after I got what they needed to put my parents in prison and they fled the country." My eyes flew to Constance without my volition. She returned my stare, not looking away, until I did. She didn't look embarrassed or guilty, whatever it was they had asked James to do, it seemed she believed it was the right thing to do.

My thumb rubbed across James' knuckles as thoughts flew across my brain, how did he end up alone? Where is his sister? What did they do?

"Insider trading," James said, absent-mindedly, "it doesn't sound like something that would hurt people, but it did. It hurt a lot of people. They took their friends' money, their friends' families' money, and what really got them in trouble; they stole the government's money. They manipulated stocks, paid off brokers, ruined a few banks."

He trailed off, and I heard Constance clear her throat, "It was a game to them," she said, "they were bored and smart."

"They didn't care about my sister or me," James said, "before we were shipped off to boarding schools, we were raised by nannies. We never figured into their plans. When they left, they left thinking our trusts were empty, and we'd be put into state custody. And they didn't pause. They didn't warn us. They just left. Moving on to a life of luxury in a country that wouldn't send them back to the U.S."

"It sounds like something my mother would do," I said, without thinking.

James laughed, and Constance chuckled.

"But, how?" I asked inarticulately, looking around at his house, and thinking about what I'd seen. Money did not seem be an issue.

"Like I said, we had money, our money had money, and our trusts had trusts. My sister and I, despite everything, are fine," he answered.

"I got in trouble, Lyric," James said, pulling his head back and looking at me, "you should know that. Before the Academy found me and offered me a way out, I lived a shallow, selfish existence. The Academy gave me a way out, gave me focus and purpose. I should have told you. We all should have told you about our pasts before we told you how we felt."

I noticed Constance frown slightly out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked over her face was curiously blank.

 _Too blank,_ I decided.

"James and his sister are both part of the Academy," Constance told me, "though his sister is on an all-female team, rather than on his team."

"We don't work well together," James answered, a small smile appearing on his face.

Constance rolled her eyes, "It tends to go either way with siblings; they either work extremely well together, or not at all. James and Juliet fall into the latter category."

"We're still trying to arrest my parent. Most of their money has gone to the people they hurt and stole from, but they were able to squirrel enough away to keep themselves well-off while they're on the run."

"Oh, James," I said sadly.

I didn't pity him, but I did know how it felt to be disappointed, and generally shafted, when it came to parents.

"My sister and I donated money to the people affected, but every once in a while, someone does a news story, or we have a law suit to deal with. The Academy deals with most of it, they're our guardians, but it still happens."

"So they're where now?" I asked, trying to remember what Constance said.

"Maldives," Constance answered, "tropical islands with no extradition to the U.S. They're good there for a while."

"Apparently Morocco no longer suited," James said drily.

"They'll be caught, James," Constance told him, "it's just a matter of time before they're arrested." James took a deep breath.

"It can't happen soon enough," he said, heatedly, "they shouldn't be allowed to just move on with their lives after what they've done."

Constance nodded, "You're right, James," she said, "but you need to be patient."

He snorted, "That's never been a strength of mine," he said.

Constance looked over at me thoughtfully, and said quietly, "I know."


	51. Nightmare

(A/N- This part is dark, but not explicit, and it does deal with sexual assault. So- I've warned it with "****" and I've ended it with "****," if you don't want to read it- skip that part. I hope that you'll forgive me for what I'm doing to Lyric and stick with the story, especially because it's what leads to a Sang. And I cross-my-heart-pinky-swear, I will make it up to them both.) Please, if you've the time or inclination- leave me a comment.

 _This chapter is dedicated to_ _je11ybean262_ _and_ _Allninearemine_ _, who helped me throughout today, editing and reassuring, and generally getting this together in a way that helped me tell a really hard story._

 **Nightmare**

I went back to school on Friday. I could handle one day of school. The boys walked in, flanking me, two beside and one behind. I giggled when Kell opened the door, shooting warning glances at other students.

"Beyonce," I said, when he looked at me confused, "and bouncers." I waved my hand to indicate the three of them.

Kell smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me into him and wrapping an arm around my waist before kissing my forehead. I smiled over at James, who met my eyes, but had to stop myself from reaching a hand out to him.

Kell was my school boyfriend. I needed to remember that. I could't be overly affectionate with Taylor and James.

"I wish Constance could move the paperwork along faster," I griped as we reached my locker.

I felt a light touch on my back before Taylor leaned against the lockers next to mine. He sighed and looked up at the lights, smiling a little to himself, "You're going to get sick of seeing us."

I took my English book out of my locker and slammed it shut, "Doubtful," I answered with a small smile.

"It's a "B" day," James reminded me, looking down at my English book, "art first."

"Damn," I whispered under my breath and feeling a flutter of nerves in my belly, "You think he'll be there?" I asked James.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, "He's there," he said, turning the screen around so I could see a black and white shot of Garret moving around the art room.

"Cameras?" I asked him.

He nodded, looking unrepentant, and I felt a measure of relief, "You'll be watching?" I asked.

He nodded again, "And you can call or alert us any time you're feeling uncomfortable," he reminded me, "you can't be afraid to do that."

I took my phone out of the zippered pocket of my backpack, "But I'm not allowed to have it out in class."

"Here," Kell said, taking the phone from me and eyeballing me from top to bottom, "put it in your bra."

"Won't that be kind of noticeable?" I asked, grinning in spite of myself, "people are going to notice if I constantly have my hand in my shirt."

"You don't have pockets in your pants," he reminded me, and I looked down at myself. I'd put on leggings with a bulky sweater and boots as a concession to the rain. If I wanted the phone on my body, it was going to have to go in my bra.

"Okay," I said, "but don't look." I shimmed the phone into my bra and then faced them, standing up straight, "Can you see it?" I pulled the sweater down, straightening the hem and looked at the boys. They all stared at my chest, and I burst out laughing.

"Okay, letches," I said, "who's walking me to class?"

James cleared his throat, "I am," he answered, swiping my backpack from me.

"See you at lunch?" I asked Kell and Taylor, who nodded.

Kell leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to my lips, "See you then," he answered.

My eyes closed as I felt the warmth of his breath on my face and I felt my body sway toward him, "Love you," I whispered.

"Love you too," he answered.

I opened my eyes and gave Taylor a small wave, feeling sad I couldn't kiss him as well, but he winked at me, as if to show me he was fine, and I followed James down the hall.

"Kell mentioned doing a Thanksgiving preview this weekend," James said as we walked.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "is he going to give us all lists? Maybe I can look up some things to make during study hall."

James made a sound of agreement, "I'm sure he'll have a list of dishes and we'll go to the store after school today. We may need to run into Portland or Portsmouth if we can't find the ingredients we need here."

"That'll be fun!" I said excitedly, picturing all of us huddled together against the chill, spending time away from anyone that knew us, and then basking in each other's company all weekend.

We reached the art room and James handed me my backpack. His hand brushed mine and he turned his fingers to squeeze mine before releasing them quickly.

I took a deep breath before going into the room. Students were milling about, and there was a "box o' joe" from Dunkin Donuts on one long table, and a box of doughnuts and muffins nearby.

I saw Garret standing near the coffee, chatting easily with Mrs. Braun. He looked over as the door closed behind me and gave me a small smile. He looked a little sheepish, and a whole lot more normal than he ever had before; less stressed and twitchy.

I sat at a desk and surreptitiously pulled my phone out and placed it in my lap.

Mrs. Braun called the class to order, "I'm sure you've all realized that today is a little different, it's Garret's last day with us, so we're having a thank-you celebration."

Various people yelled out, "Thank you Garret!" before giggling and going back to chatting with each other.

I took out a notebook and began sketching, ignoring the people around me. I felt the phone vibrate in my lap and I startled, before looking down and smiling.

Kell: _Love you._

I picked up the phone to begin typing when a voice interrupted me.

"Hey," Garret said.

I slipped the phone under my leg, and looked up, "Hi," I answered.

He held a cup and smiled, "Here," he said, "peace offering."

I looked at him confused, "What?" I asked.

"I realize I've come on pretty strong," he said, perching on the table near me and taking a sip from his own cup, "I didn't mean to. I apologize."

He held the cup out to me again, "It's hot chocolate," he said, "I didn't know if you liked coffee."

"Thanks," I said, taking it in both hands.

I felt my phone vibrate under my leg and I looked down.

"Go ahead," Garret told me, looking at my lap, "everyone else is."

I looked around and saw that a number of students were on their phones and Mrs. Braun didn't seem bothered.

I took my phone out and checked the message.

James: _Problem at the courthouse with papers. Kell and I headed to meet her. Taylor will meet you at lunch. We'll be monitoring. Love you._

Taylor: _Guys have to leave. I'll meet you in the lunch room._

Kell: _James and I meeting Constance. Taylor staying behind. Find him at lunch and text me when you're done art. Love you._

Me to James: _Okay. Love you._

Me to Taylor: _Okay. I'll save you a seat._

Me to Kell: _Will do. Love you too._

"Everything good?" Garret asked.

"Yes," I answered, slipping the phone under my thigh again and picking up the hot chocolate.

"It's mint," he told me, jerking his chin in the direction of the cup, "with whipped cream."

I opened it up, and took a sip. It was just the right temperature and the mint was perfect.

"I've never had mint hot chocolate before," I said, taking another sip.

It warmed me all the way to my toes, filling me with a nice relaxed feeling. I took another sip and put it on the table.

"It's really rich," I said, suddenly feeling like I needed a sip of water with chocolate coating my mouth. It left a funny aftertaste.

"Need water?" Garret asked, noticing me moving my tongue around strangely. It was weird, my tongue was feeling too big suddenly.

"Ugh," I said.

"Here," he handed me a water bottle, and I took a big sip, swirling the water in my mouth before swallowing.

My stomach rebelled against the water and I felt myself start to sweat.

"Maybe I'm allergic to something," I said, pulling my hair away from my neck.

"Are you okay, Lyric?" Mrs. Braun asked me, her face filling my vision, "you're really flushed."

 _I don't feel so well_ , I wanted to say, but my mouth couldn't form the words.

I moved my hand under my thigh to grab my phone, wanting to let the boys know I needed them. I could hear voices talking around me, fading in and out, like someone lowering and raising the volume on the radio.

"Lyric?" a woman's voice asked.

I blinked, trying to focus.

A flesh colored blob with dark hair wavered in front of me, before I heard Garret, "I'll take her," and I felt his hands on my arms.

I made a grab for my phone, but my hands felt swollen and clumsy and it slipped through my fingers.

The light from the room was too bright and the way that Garret and Mrs. Braun's face swam back and forth in front of me made me feel sick so I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I got it," I heard Garret say, and we were moving.

I looked down and saw I was walking. I could see the red tile, boot, white tile, boot, red tile, boot, white tile, boot, red tile, boot, white tile...

I felt a cold breeze and I turned my face toward it. It pushed my hair out of my face. There was something wet landing on me, and my hands fluttered in front of me. I watched them as I tried to move them to wipe my face.

"I need to call them," I heard myself say.

"No," a voice said, it was deep and serious and it scared me.

My hands slapped around the seat, looking for the phone I'd had under my thigh earlier, but other hands replaced mine, "It's fine Lyric," the voice said again, "leave it."

My head was so so heavy.

The breeze disappeared and I was overheating again. My head bounced back and forth on my neck and my forehead slammed into something cold and hard. I opened my eyes and stared.

It was my house.

No.

It wasn't my house anymore.

It was my mom's house.

I felt the cold air again and then hands were lifting me and I was propelled forward.

"You gave her too much," I heard my mom say.

"It's fine."

"How long?" she asked.

"Just go."

I didn't want to go inside that house.

 _Where was my phone?_ My hand touched my chest, and I had the memory of wearing a sweater but my hand only encountered skin.

I looked down, where was my sweater? I stared up at the water stained ceiling above my bed. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, my eyes were too heavy.

I saw Garret's face close to my own and I squeezed my eyes shut.

I was having a nightmare. That's what was happening, it was a nightmare.

I could feel pressure against my lips, hands on my face. I pushed them away, but the hands just held mine, lacing our fingers together in some kind of sick mimicry of the way the boys held me.

I tried to clear my throat to call out to them, but my lips didn't work. My eyes wouldn't open now, and I didn't want them shut. I needed to see.

I felt pressure.

Against my chest.

Holding my hands.

Pinning me in place.

Between my legs.

A sudden pain shot through my body, and my eyes opened to stare at the brown stain on the ceiling again. I could feel a heaviness along my body, and I tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't with something pressing against my chest.

A soft tickle against my cheek made me turn my head, and I looked over in confusion.

Brown hair, tickling my chin and shoulder, before eyes met mine.

Then the pain was back, and I shut my eyes again.

I didn't want to feel any more.

I didn't want to see.

I wanted to go back to sleep.

I would go back to sleep.

It was just a nightmare.

When I opened my eyes again, I would be in bed. In a big fluffy bed. In a beautiful room, made just for me and my boys.

 **James, Kell, and Taylor**

 **James' Point of View**

"How does she look?" Kell asked me as he drove us through the narrow streets toward the courthouse.

I looked down at the open app, "Fine, so far," I answered, "she's sketching."

I watched Lyric's head bent over her notebook, her face hidden by a veil of hair that would slip from behind her ear no matter how many times she tucked it.

A body obscured her a moment later, "Son of a bitch," I griped.

"The ass?"

"Yeah," I nodded frustrated. I switched the camera to another angle, and saw Garret hand Lyric a cup.

She held it in her hands a moment, like she was trying to warm up before opening the top and taking a sip.

I opened up the messenger app for Taylor and texted him.

 _Are you watching?_

Taylor: _Yeah._

A moment went by and I watched Lyric take another drink before Garret reached forward and plucked the cup from her hands.

A beep signaled from my phone and a banner appeared at the top of the screen: _I don't like it, I'm going to get her._

I let out a breath I had been holding and looked over at Kell, who was shooting me dark looks while he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

"Taylor's going to get her," I said.

I saw the tension leave Kell's shoulders, and he relaxed his grip slightly.

Constance was waiting for us outside the courthouse when Kell drove up, parking in a spot right next to the building.

"Hey," she said in greeting, leaning forward to give me a small hug, "so: weird... Garret revoked guardianship. Lyric's mom is her legal guardian again."

Kell walked up and gave Constance a hug as well, "What's that mean?" he asked.

"It's just another roadblock," Constance said, pulling her hair to the side and twirling it, "I'm getting really fed up with them."

She started up the steps, and we followed. A guard stood just inside the door, and Constance began emptying her pockets into a plastic tray before putting her purse on top.

Kell put his keys in the tray before taking out his cell phone. I watched it slip through his fingers and shatter on the phone.

"Shit!" he swore, leaning down and picking up the pieces.

"Come with me, Sir," a guard said, coming up to Kell, and gesturing toward a nearby room, labeled 'security.'

Right away I realized what was happening, and I saw Kell did, too. The dark guy was going to get patted down, up close and personal. He sighed, and looked at me, annoyed.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked, using my best, bored, first-world problems voice, "we are here to file paperwork, that's all."

The guard gripped Kell's elbow, and gestured to the room again but nodded to someone and I turned around to see a new guard joining us.

"This way, Sir," he said.

Apparently I was about to get a pat down as well.

I reached for my phone, but, "Leave it," the guard told me. Constance met my gaze and nodded, letting me know she'd take care of it.

I followed him into an office, which opened into another room consisting of a table and chairs.

"Have a seat," he told me, and I sat.

I expected him to stay, but he turned around and closed the door, leaving me in the cold, empty room with growing apprehension.

 **Taylor's Point of View**

I looked down at the video of Garret and Lyric. She took a sip from the cup he handed her.

I was done. I didn't want to watch them.

We were leaving in a few days with her; it didn't matter if she went to art class.

 _Why did we even come to school today?_

I knew that Constance said it was important to keep to our normal schedule, to raise as few red flags as possible, but I didn't like the way this felt.

I stood up to leave, and the teacher gave me a disapproving look, "Sit down Mr. Curtis," he said.

"I need to leave," I told him, "Can I have a hall pass, please?"

"You've been out for three days," he told me, taking a step toward me, "you're not getting a hall pass. You're not leaving my class. You're this close," he showed me an inch between his fingers, "to detention. So sit yourself down."

Fine.

If this was the way he wanted to play it, that worked for me. I turned around to leave, pulling out my phone to check the video feed as I reached for the doorknob. A hand filled my vision, reaching to close the door with one and taking the phone from me with the other.

"Mr. Curtis," the teacher said, "I suggest you think carefully about this. If I give you detention, you will be suspended from your final soccer game; letting down both your teammates and your coaches. You will also be receiving an unexcused absence from my class which will negatively impact your grade."

He moved in front of me, his hands up to stop me, and I saw Lyric's body weave suddenly.

NO!

"Get out of my way!" I ground out, pushing past him. I had to get to her.

He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me, and I slapped his hand away.

I heard the intake of breath from my classmates, a gasp of disbelief at my actions, but I didn't care.

"Stop!" he cried.

Was this really happening? Who the hell cared if a student left class?

"Just give me detention," I called over my shoulder, "I don't give a shit."

I took two steps before coming face-to-face with the principal. This was a fucking comedy of errors.

"My office, Curtis. Now," he demanded curtly, his eyes serious and his face stony.

This was bullshit.

"Get out of my fucking way," I told him, my desperation growing. Each hurdle they threw up was keeping me from Lyric.

I turned around and grabbed my phone from my teacher, opening the emergency app for Kell and James.

I needed them. I couldn't do this on my own with all these assholes getting in my face.

I started walking past the principal, but the fear in my chest was growing and I started running.

"Stop!" I heard the principal cry.

I heard the rush of footsteps and then I was tackled from behind.

"Get the fuck off me!" I yelled, turning around to fight. I saw a booted foot rush up, and recognized the school resource officer.

I relaxed, "I'm done," I told them, "I'm done," and I felt the arms holding me relax in response.

As soon as they did, I turned, bucking them off me, and took off.

I didn't make it far. I was tackled again, and my head hit the tile.

 _You're a failure,_ I thought, before the world went black.


	52. What I Deserved

I groaned and flipped onto my side. My eyes felt like they were held together with dirt and duct tape, and my uncoordinated hand slapped at my face, trying to rub them open. My entire body hurt; like I had been lifting stones and running a marathon while ramming my head into a brick wall.

My hands found my eyes. I groaned again as the pressure against my eyes shot straight to my brain. I persisted; fingertips grazing grit until I could open my eyes.

I shifted on the bed, shying away from the light filtering in from dingy window.

As I curled up on my side, I felt an ache and twinge between my legs that made me suddenly sick.

And I remembered.

I heaved and threw up all over the floor of my bedroom. I pushed at the mattress until I could sit up, but the room spun. I gripped the sides of my bed with both hands, trying to steady myself while my head whipped around, looking for the next threat. Panic stole my breath and a desperation I had never ever felt before made me move jerkily.

Clothes.

That's all I needed to leave. I pitched forward out of the bed, just narrowly missing where I had thrown up, and crawled toward a pile of clothes on the floor.

Underwear.

Sweater.

Leggings.

Each step, crawl, kneel, movement reminded me of what happened.

I needed to get out.

I stuck one foot in my underwear, and then the other, shimmying them up my legs as I sat on the floor. As I pulled them up my thighs I saw the dried blood staining them.

I gave a choked cry, but my brain shut it down.

 _Leave. Leave. Leave. Put it aside for now. Don't think about it. Just leave._

I got my underwear on, and started with the jeans. I noticed bruises all along my thighs, on my calves, even on my feet.

A flash of memory, _pushing away and being held down._

 _Put it aside for now. Don't think about it. Just leave._

My sweater was next, and I couldn't miss the bruises of fingers and thumbs on my wrist.

I heard footsteps and looked around for a weapon. There wasn't much, but I grabbed the lamp next to my bed. It would have to do. I stood up, bracing my back against the wall while my arms and legs trembled at holding up my weight.

The door opened and my mother stepped through.

I lowered the lamp without thinking, staring at her, her face getting blurry as my eyes filled with tears.

"Mom," I choked, locking my knees as my trembling started again, "why?"

Her face was older in the light. I could see the lines around her mouth from curing her lips around her cigarette, deep furrows on her forehead, and grooves along her nose. Her hair was a yellowy blonde, stained like her fingertips.

"Why?" she asked, looking at me in disgust, "why should you..." she asked, taking a step toward me, her voice deepening with anger, "why should you get everything?"

I leaned a little more against the wall, holding a hand against the windowsill when my entire body wanted to collapse.

"You think you're better than me?" she cried, her voice breaking, "you think you get to go to some fancy school and leave me here? You think you get to wear fancy clothes when I can't even buy cigarettes?"

I shook my head, trying to make sense of her words while holding down the vomit that was threatening again.

"You're not better than me!" she whisper screeched, "you're a fucking slut! You think, because you're fucking a McInnish, that you're like them? You're like me! You're trash! Flaunting yourself in front of the men I bring home, making them want you!"

"No," I choked out, "no..."

"You're just like me," she whispered, "and I'm done with you."

"You're my mother," I said, looking at the dirty carpet before meeting her eyes, "you let him... you helped him..."

"You deserved it," she spat out.

I shook my head, inching toward the door. My backpack sat next to it and I grabbed it, looping it over my wrist even though the weight of it threatened to pull me sideways.

I walked through the door and stopped. Two police officers, the ones who brought me here before, and an unfamiliar woman, stood in the filthy living room.

"Hi Lyric," the woman said stepping forward carefully, "my name is Deb Craft. I work with the Office of Child and Family Services. Your mom called us because she needs our help."

I snorted, shaking my head.

"I can't do this anymore Lyric," my mother said behind me, "you're too much for me to handle."

"Handle?!" I whipped around and lost my balance before catching myself, "I don't need you to handle me!"

"Lyric," Ms. Craft said, soothingly, "You're going to come with me and these officers here. We're going to help you. Take care of you."

I looked at my mother whose eyes were glittering with something... triumph?

"Did you tell them?" I asked, "Did you tell them what he did?"

"Lyric," my mother shook her head, "no more lies."

"We have reports, Lyric," one the officers, what was his name? Standish? said, "One from your mom's ex-boyfriend Tim, about you attacking him, threatening to tell people he raped you. One from a girl at school, Riley, who said you threatened her just this week, and another one from this morning, from your cousin, Garret Sorenson, he said you came onto him and threatened to tell people he raped you. You can't make up stories like that, Lyric."

"You're missing school, Lyric," Ms. Craft added, "all the time now."

My backpack fell to the ground. I couldn't hold myself up anymore and I slid to the ground, "What did you do?" I asked my mother, staring at her in disbelief, "It wasn't enough to let him rape me, you're sending me to the state?"

"I can't handle you," my mother said, raising her chin stubbornly, "you're a liar and you're going to end up pregnant or dead. You're too much for me."

"Lyric," Ms. Craft said kindly, "please don't get yourself in any more trouble. Just come with us."

I saw a booted foot near my knee and a hand reached down to help me up.

I weaved back and forth while Officer Standish held me steady. He looked at my face before asking, "What'd you take Lyric?"

"What?" I asked, as he began to lead me from the house and down the steps.

I looked over at Ms. Craft who watched us with interest, "Your pupils are blown wide open," he said, "you're pale and sweating, and you're shaking. What did you take?"

"I don't know," I answered, "I don't remember taking anything."

"We got a report of her being sick at school," Ms. Craft informed him, "Sorenson drove her home and made the report after."

"We'll check her locker later," Officer Standish said, opening a door to a police cruiser and placing me inside.

"Can I have my bag, please?" I asked, hoping my phone was inside so I could call the boys.

 _Oh my god. The boys._

 _They were going to..._

The tears I held at bay began in earnest; great, ugly, hiccuping sobs overtook me. I saw Officer Standish eyeball me from the rearview mirror as he pulled away.

"It's going to be okay, Lyric," he said, "we're going to give you the help you need."

I shook my head, wiping my nose on my sleeve and wincing as I came into contact with a bruise.

 _It's never going to be okay again_ , I thought.


	53. Constance's Point of View: Part 1

Constance

When I was in the Army, we had a word for days like today.

Clusterfuck.

This whole morning was a massive clusterfuck.

I had given up on the paperwork at the courthouse, and was now on the horn with the Academy. The asshole guards wouldn't let me back to see James or Kell, despite me telling them that I was their guardian.

I waited on a bench in the hallway for the lawyer, who should be appearing any moment, and opened up James' phone. It was thumbprint protected, but it recognized mine.

Right away a video of a classroom appeared, and I realized that the boys had been monitoring Lyric.

I sighed.

Clusterfuck.

I knew from the time they introduced her that they had feelings for her. When they told me that they wanted to adopt her into their family, it just confirmed my suspicions, but it was okay. She was a good candidate for adoption. She was smart, and had a bright successful future if she could just catch a break.

The Academy excelled at providing those breaks.

So I had okay'ed it. Started the adoption, but at _every single turn_ there was an issue.

I schooled my features, as I sat, hoping I hadn't let my annoyance cross my face. I tried not to let my frustration show and flipped through cameras. I accessed a hallway camera and saw a huge pile up of bodies on the floor.

Fuck. A. Duck.

It was Taylor at the bottom of that pig-pile.

I got on the phone again, calling my mentor, "I need lawyers at the school," I told him, "I know I said I needed them at the courthouse, but I need them at the school too."

"What's going on Constance?" he asked in his low southern drawl.

"I don't know," I answered, "but I think I'll probably need you at the hospital as well."

"Of course," he said calmly, "it's all in motion. Just sit tight, you should have support any moment."

I hung up the phone, staring at Taylor's prone body on the floor while person after person disentangled their body from the pile. He remained unmoving until EMTs ran up to him, stabilizing his neck and flipping him over.

What had happened? Taylor was rough, but he was smart, and he never acted aggressively without thinking things through. I had never seen him engage physically in an altercation he couldn't win.

I felt a yawning pit open up in my stomach.

I didn't know what was happening, but it wasn't good.


	54. Constance's Point of View: Part 2

(A/N- How's everyone doing? Are you still with me? I hope so. Please feel free to leave a comment. I appreciate all the ones people have left- they are helping me add explanations and details).

 **Constance**

Thirty minutes later, when the lawyer walked in, I could have groaned.

It was Liam. Grumpy, abrupt, visiting and therefore away from Lily, so extra grumpy and abrupt; Liam.

"Hi," I said smiling, despite my clenched teeth, "thanks for coming."

He shook my outstretched hand and grunted, "Where are they?"

I pointed to both of the doors.

"How long?" he asked.

"Since I called," I answered, a little shortly.

He raised one strawberry eyebrow, "Thirty to thirty-five minutes," I conceded, it was very difficult not to roll my eyes at this man. I didn't know how Lily could stand him.

Liam walked over to one of the doors and knocked smartly until it opened and a guard appeared, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," Liam answered, "You need to turn the minors, Kell Garewal and James McInnish over to their guardian, Constance Lodge. In point of fact, you have no legal reason to hold them. You search and you release. That is what you do."

I watched the guard's hand crumple up the napkin, "You got proof she's their guardian?" he asked, "because, point in fact, it's a little weird to have two minors, one who's a Pakistani or some such, comin' into the courthouse in Kennebunkport, Maine."

Liam held out a paper and the guard looked it over, clearly unimpressed with Liam, "You got ID?" he asked me.

I took out my wallet, and gave him my best dimpled smile, turning on the southern charm that I'd left behind years ago, "Yes, Sir, I do," I answered, handing it to him.

He smiled at me, and looked at my license, "Well," he said, "I am sorry for the mix-up, but you gotta understand, we can't be too careful these days."

"Of course we understand," I answered like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, "we sure do appreciate all your hard work."

The guard smiled at me once more before he looked at Liam. The way his face changed would have been comical if it wasn't for the worry nagging me.

He turned around, and a moment later, Kell appeared.

"Have you spoken to Taylor?" he asked me immediately, shrugging into his jacket.

I shook my head, "No," I answered, "there was some sort of altercation at the school. We'll meet him at the hospital."

"The hospital?!" James voice was deep and worried as he strode toward me, holding out his hand authoritatively for his phone.

I handed it to him, and saw him quickly thumbing through it.

"Son of a bitch," he said, meeting Kell's eyes as we all exited the courthouse and began down the stairs.

"Liam," I commanded, "you go to the hospital with me. I know Kell and James want to get back to the school to check on Lyric. The three of them will meet us there later."

"Who's Lyric?" Liam was asking right before I heard James make a sound I never wanted to hear again. One that reminded me of firefights and IEDs. One that was more animal than human.

"NO!" he cried out, "KELL!"

Something in his voice made a tremble begin in my spine. His face was white, utterly and completely white, down to his lips, and he hunched over as if he'd been gutted.

He stood for a second, as if made of stone, as he stared at his phone in horror.

"What!?" Kell asked, grabbing the phone, "What? Jesus, James, what?!"

He looked down at the screen, and his eyes widened before he swayed, gripping the bannister.

"Let's go," he said, before he began running down the steps with James stumbling after him.

"Get to Lyric's," he yelled at me, "call every fucking person you know."

I ran down after them, my hands trembling as I fumbled for my phone as the phrase, "fucked up," echoed through my brain. I had fucked up, I knew it. I didn't know what I did, but I'd done it.

I watched James struggle to open the door, I had never seen him uncoordinated before.

"Kell," I choked out as he jumped into the car, "what happened?"

The voice that left his throat was ravaged, as if he'd been screaming at the top of lungs but I hadn't heard him make a sound, "He raped her," he answered, "Garret raped Lyric."


	55. Hero and Leandra

The ride was a jumble of images and blackness. I would look out the window and take in the city signs, but then the car would hit a bump and I'd be jostled and wince and my brain would just... shut off. Then I'd find myself staring at pine trees with no memory of how long I'd been looking.

Officer Standish tried to make conversation with me, but I couldn't follow the threads, so chose to remain quiet. What did I need to say to him, anyway? I'd told him what had happened and he didn't believe me.

The police cruiser turned down a residential street, and stopped in front of an older colonial style house. Officer Standish got out of the car first, before opening the door for me and holding out a hand. I flinched as it came close to me, but then ignored it, dragging myself across the seat until I could get out. As I stood up, my stomach roiled with nausea, threatening me yet again. I forced it back, concentrating instead on walking.

Walking was more than painful; it was a cannonball into memory and I stopped completely. I couldn't move forward, my entire body shook and trembled.

"...blood test," I heard a woman's voice say and when I looked around, I saw I was seated in a warm and cozily decorated office.

"I'm not qualified to do that," another voice said, "but when the house matron gets back, she'll run all the regular tests and do all the routine exams."

My vision cleared and I saw a small, nervous looking woman sitting at a desk, writing frantically while sneaking glances at me.

"Hello," she said, when my eyes landed on her, "I'm Jasmine. I'm the substitute house mother here at Sheltering Arms. We're a group home for girls, and we're happy to have you."

"I'm not staying," I told her seriously, ignoring everything else she said while looking around the office.

She cleared her throat, "Well," she said uncomfortable, but trying to be kind, "even if it's for a short time, we're happy to have you. I need to go over some rules with you, and then I'll get you settled in your room."

"I want to go to a hospital," I told her, "I was raped, and despite what Officer Standish and Ms. Craft may have told you, I am not making it up."

Jasmine looked at Officer Standish and Ms. Craft nervously, "Um, we usually do a physical exam, but because I'm just the substitute matron, I'm really not comfortable with that. Maybe you should bring her to the hospital," she finished.

I saw Ms. Craft rub her forehead and Officer Standish frowned at me, "You're wasting a lot of people's time, Lyric," she said, "and you'll be in even worse trouble if you're taking up the time of busy doctors."

I blinked and moved my gaze to Officer Standish, "This is on you," I told him, "your job is to help people, and you are..." my voice broke, "you are fucking me over right now. So go. Leave. I hope you can live with yourself."

An angry look passed over his face and he stood up, "I don't have time for an entitled delinquent," he said, "I have actual real victims to help."

"You couldn't tell a victim from a criminal if it was stamped on their forehead," I retorted meanly.

He turned around without another glance and left the office.

I heard Ms. Craft sigh, and then she was lightly touching my arm. I jerked it away, not wanting anyone to touch me. If I never felt another hand on my body that would be fine.

"We really do want to help you," she said.

"You just made things infinitely worse," I told her, "go. Please. I can't stand to look at any of you."

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned to Jasmine, "You've got the paperwork. I'll be back to visit next month. Good luck," she said and left.

I crossed my arms across my chest, trying to hold in the bone-deep weariness and waves of nausea that were overtaking my body. I stared at Jasmine for a moment, waiting for her to speak.

"Okay, Lyric," she said, standing up, "let's get you settled."

"Can I have my bag?" I asked, nodding at my backpack.

She nodded, "Yes," she said, "but I'm sorry. I need to go through it first. And you're not allowed your cell phone yet. You can earn it back, but it's going to take a while."

I'd assumed as much.

She stood up and began leading me through the house. Two girls were coming down the stairs and she stopped, "Lyric," she said, "this is Hero and Leandra. They're your roommates and mentors. They'll show you the rest of the way and fill you in on the details you need. Dinner is at six. We all eat in the dining room together," and with that, she turned away and left me with two incredibly tough looking girls.

"I'm Hero," the first girl said, sticking out her hand.

I eyeballed her hand, the thought of her skin touching mine was too much, and I shook my head, "I can't," I whispered, "I'm sorry."

She looked over at Leandra, "Don't worry pumpkin pie," the other girl said, "it's all good."

Both girls turned and began walking back up the stairs. I stared after them. I didn't think I would be able to make it up.

"You comin'?" Leandra asked.

I reached out a shaking hand for the bannister, my sweater riding up above my wrist as I did.

"Holy shit," Leandra whispered, looking over at Hero.

"Fuck me in the goat ass," Hero said.

Both took steps backwards, "I'm going to put my arms around your waist," she told me, "Leandra's gonna help you on the other side. Just grit your teeth and focus on the steps."

"Fuckin' bullshit, Hero," Leandra said, as she gripped me.

I weaved and her arm tightened, making me see spots: her arm around my waist, his hand pressing against my hip.

"I'm gonna be sick," I told them.

"Go." Hero directed, and the two actually lifted me and pulled me up the stairs and into a bathroom. I only made it to the sink before the dry heaves began.

I saw my face and closed my eyes. I was white as a sheet and sweaty. No wonder everyone thought I was on drugs.

 _You are_ , my mind said, _you just didn't know you were taking them._

I choked on a cry and covered my mouth quickly.

"Come on, Pumpkin," Leandra said, helping me to the toilet to sit down.

I winced as I sat and Hero's face appeared in front of me.

Her hair was a mass of gorgeous spiral curls. She was round all over, round face, round eyes, round body. She had tattoos along her neck, and I could see writing along her collar bones. She looked like she could kick-ass and take names, but her eyes were kind as they searched my face.

"What happened?" she asked, "why aren't you at the hospital?"

"I told them," I said, the words spilling from my mouth, "I told them what happened but they didn't believe me. They won't take me. Jasmine..." I shook my head.

"Jasmine won't," Hero said, "she's nice, but she's a goddamn doormat. If someone in authority tells her what to do, she'll do it. No questions."

I heard a shower start up, and then Leandra's voice, "Let us help you."

I shook my head, "No," I said, "no. I can do it myself."

"Kiddo," Hero argued, "you're gonna fall down. And you're still fucked up... what the fuck did you take?"

"I didn't take anything!" I cried, "I didn't know I was taking anything! He..."

I stopped, my mind conjuring the remembered flavor of the mint hot chocolate and I clapped a hand over my mouth again.

Hands cupped my elbows and brought me back to the sink where I threw up again and again, until I could barely stand.

"Lyric," Leandra kneeled next to me, her face serious and true, "I promise you. We won't hurt you. We don't do that here. We look out for each other. Please. Let us help you."

"I can't stand it," I whispered, "if you touch me. I can't stand it."

She nodded, her short blonde hair falling over her forehead, so she had to twitch it out of her eyes, "Look," she said, "we'll do this fast. We'll get off the boots and clothes, and you can go in in your underwear. You can sit right down on the floor, and we'll stay out here until you're ready to get out."

I stared at her, waiting to see an ulterior motive or some sort of dishonesty cross her face, but her eyes stayed fixed on mine. All I saw was a desire to help.

"Okay," I finally whispered.

"Good girl," she replied, smiling and showing me a chipped front tooth.

The two of them helped me back to the toilet, pulling off my boots and gently peeling the leggings off of my body.

In the bright light of the bathroom, I could see every cut and bruise on my body.

And the blood.

There was more blood than I remembered.

"Holy fucking shit," Hero said.

Black spots appeared in front of my eyes and I closed them tightly.

"Stay with us, Pumpkin," Leandra said to me, "open your eyes and look at me. Just me. Nothing else."

I did as she asked, staring into her blue and black speckled irises.

I felt the sleeve of one arm be pulled away gently, but Leandra didn't look away, "Just at me," she reminded.

I nodded, and the sweater was quickly pulled over my head and dropped so I could stare at Leandra again.

"We're gonna help you in," Hero said, "and we're gonna stay right here. You take as long as you need, but you stay with us, you hear? We've been there too. We got you."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath and leaning on them heavily to stand. I took one step and nearly collapsed. I couldn't let my legs brush together and had to walk bow-legged to the tub. I lifted one foot and then the next, and the girls helped lower me to the floor so I could sit down with my back against the tub.

"We're right here," Leandra reminded me, before pulling the curtain closed.

I let the water pound on my head, and I let the tears flow down my face. I leaned over until I could curl up on my side and let the water pound against my ribs.

 _Never be okay again,_ I thought.


	56. Hero's Point of View

**Hero's Point of View**

I stared at Leandra, feeling a familiar rage building in my chest. I took deep breaths, reminding myself of the lessons I'd been taught, and I slowly released the tension in my fists.

 _All right_ , I thought, _no holes to patch in walls today. Success._

Leandra stared at me meaningfully, looking at the shower.

I nodded, _I know, I thought, this one is different._

The girls who came to Sheltering Arms were like us. They were tough, and they didn't follow rules, and they did drugs if they wanted, and fucked whoever they wanted.

They also got the shit kicked out of them, and they got raped, and they got arrested.

Some of us lied and some of us didn't.

We may have been victims, but we were also perps. All of us had done stuff we weren't proud of.

This one? This one in the shower crying out her little marshmallow heart? This one was different.

 _Fucking shit, what was she doing here?_

"That girl was raped," Leandra whispered, "and whoever did it? He drugged her, and he sure as fuck didn't use a condom."

I wanted to cry and smash something at the same time.

"Get her phone," I whispered, "tell Ariel, she's in charge of tech. Someone's gotta be looking for her. I would be."

Leandra nodded, crossing her arms and sitting down next to the tub.

I opened the door an inch and looked out, "Yo," I said, getting the attention of a girl walking by, "Di! I need a uniform, tylenol, gatorade, and a mother fucking morning after pill."

Diana, the girl who could get into the drugs shook her head, "We're out," she said, "been out since before Tish left. Jasmine was supposed to reorder but didn't."

"Fuck," I said, "this is a goddamn fucking nightmare," I yanked on a curl and twirled it nervously.

"Calm the hell down, Hero," Leandra whispered, "how do you think she feels?"

I knew how she felt, that was the problem, and yet, had I ever been that innocent? I don't think so.

"Goddamn fucking nightmare," I repeated.


	57. Doctor's Orders: Taylor's Point of View

**(A/N** : So I know each chapter is intense, and I hope that I'm not exhausting you until you're feeling like, "I can't possible expend any more energy on these characters." It's going to be bad for awhile. I don't know how else to do it.). Please comment- and let me know how it's reading to you- thanks!)

 **Doctor's Orders**

 **Taylor's Point of View**

When I woke up, I woke up swinging.

"Taylor stop! Stop!"

Constance.

Her face was pale in the bright hospital light, her freckles standing out against her skin, her lips chapped as if she'd been biting them.

I raised my head to look around and swung my feet off the bed, giving my head a moment to catch up with my eyeballs.

I groaned, "Where's Lyric?" I asked.

"She's not here," Constance said quietly.

I stood up, looking around for my clothes, and she handed me my flannel shirt.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You threw down with the principal," she said, "and the school resource officer, and about three other teachers. You have a concussion." I shoved my hands into my sleeves and looked around for my boots, which appeared in front of me.

"Thanks," I said, "so is she with Kell and James?"

I shoved my feet into my boots and stood up, raising one eyebrow when she didn't answer.

"Well?" I asked, impatiently, "Is she in the waiting room? Why didn't you let her back here?"

"Taylor."

Constance looked behind her at the doctor who had just entered. He had a deep voice that bespoke gentleman. He was southern, but not from Texas. I'd place his accent around Georgia, or South Carolina.

"I'm Dr. Phil Roberts. You probably don't remember me, but I met you when you joined the Academy."

Many of those days were a blur of physical and mental exhaustion, so I stared at him a moment to see if I could place him.

"Oh," I answered, remembering him as one of the doctors who'd checked us for dehydration at boot camp, "yes. I remember now, hello."

"Taylor," Dr. Roberts began, "I need you to stay seated."

I sat, but only because my knees suddenly gave out as my brain began to piece together information: Constance handing me clothes without arguing. The absence of Kell and James. The absence of Lyric.

I gripped the mattress hard, "Is she dead?" I asked, waiting for the inevitable affirmative.

Dr. Roberts head shook from side to side, but Constance's face, the poker face she did her best to keep, was gone. She looked broken.

"Connie?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the tone pleading, begging her to deny whatever was to come next.

Tears tracked down her cheeks, "I'm so sorry, Taylor," she said.

I stood up, dizziness threatening to topple me again, "I need to go to her," I said, "Connie. Where is she? What happened?" The tears were coming more quickly now, and I felt Dr. Roberts' arm wrap around my waist, "She..." Connie stopped, and tried again, "she was assaulted. She, uh," she met my eyes and they were so sad, "she was raped. By Garret."

I had begun shaking my head the moment she started talking, and kept shaking it. My hands came up to grip my hair, and I tugged it, like I could pull out the words and the images they conjured. I kept my hands over my head, linking my fingers behind it, and covering my face with my elbows.

I could feel wetness on my face, and my heart breaking in my chest, "No," I whispered.

"NO!" I said louder, yelling now, "Where is she?! GODDAMNIT CONNIE! TELL ME!" I took a step toward her to shake the answers out of her.

Dr. Roberts gripped my shoulders with both hands, "Taylor," he said, "We are going to find her. And she is going to need you. She is going to need you boys like she's never needed anyone in her whole life before."

I stared at him, trying to process his words. His eyes watched mine and he nodded when he saw me listening again, "So you go ahead," he said, "you rage and you scream and you cry. But I'm giving you ten minutes. Because in ten minutes we leave, and you will need all your focus and all your training for what's to come."

I pulled my hands away from my head and nodded.

"Ten minutes," he told me, indicating to Constance to leave the room, "this is an Academy room, so do what you need to do," he finished, holding the door open for Constance and then closing it shut with a click behind him.

I walked to the window, gripping the sill in both hands, and pressing my forehead against the cool glass.

Too slow.

I was too slow.

I felt the rage explode out of me and I swept my arms across the table that held glass jars of cottonballs and q-tips, relishing the crash and shattering of glass. I kicked the bed, and it jumped off it's runners and slammed into the wall. I kicked it again, over and over until it dented the wall and plastic handrails were cracked.

LYRIC! My heart screamed her name and I saw her beautiful face, looking up at me with trust and love.

Garret had taken something from us. He had hurt person who had completed our family and given us hope and joy as we looked to the future. He had taken that like it was nothing, like it was his due, like he had every right in the world to it.

When I found Lyric, I would keep her wrapped up and safe from everything. She would never ever hurt again.

And Garret? I would kill him.


	58. Hours

**Hours**

I let the water pound down against my skin, but despite the temperature, I shivered uncontrollably.

I kept my eyes closed tight, and just felt the water. I picture all of my fears and all of my pain washing down the drain.

"I'm right here, Pumpkin, if you need me," Leandra called to me.

I almost smiled.

These girls were a gift from God, and I didn't know why. Why would God send them to me now, and not protect me when I needed it most?

I pushed my hair out of my eyes and slowly sat up under the spray. I looked around the small shower.

"Is there any soap?" I asked quietly, my voice sounding as cracked as I felt.

A hand reached in holding a bottle of body wash, "Here," she said.

I took it and dumped a it into my hand before rubbing it all over me. It smelled like raspberries, and nearly overpowered me. I felt my stomach heave again, but I swallowed hard. There was nothing left in my body to throw up anyway.

I heard voices outside the shower, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

I dumped the body wash on my head, scrubbing my hair and feeling a twinge on my scale from my still-healing wound.

I ignored it.

It was getting easier to ignore the pain in my body. It wasn't that it hurt less, but the hurt was changing. It was getting deeper, settling into my bones in a way that made me feel like maybe it was becoming part of me.

I shut the water off and a hand immediately reached in with a towel.

"Thanks," I got out, wrapping it around my body and waiting.

I heard a throat clear, "I'm going to help you out," Leandra said, "and we're going to bring you to our room."

I waited, getting ready to make an excuse about why I could get myself there when my treacherous body began to sway again. The curtain opened and I gripped the top of the towel a little tighter.

Leandra's eyes traveled the length of my body quickly, and my eyes shut tight in response.

I knew what she saw.

I tried to block out what I'd seen when I'd washed my body, but unbidden, my mind flashed to putting on my clothes in my room.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft, "open your eyes. Keep them on me. You can rest soon."

I nodded. She held out a huge t-shirt and I felt my throat tighten as I remembered my overlarge, comfy, _gettin' lucky in Kentucky_ t-shirt. Taylor's face appeared in my mind and it undid me. I bent over at the waist, gasping for breath. I felt the t-shirt placed over my head and it settled over my waist and butt, until it hit almost the tops of my knees.

"Come on," Leandra whispered, and then, "I'm going to take your hand and bring you to our room."

I couldn't answer, but wrapped an arm around my waist, trying to stand more upright. I felt a hand gently grasp mine and give a little tug. I opened my eyes and followed her out of the bathroom, walking tenderly.

The bed was turned down and I fell into it.

"Can I give you something to help you sleep?" she asked, kneeling next to the bed.

I stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. I was still cotton-mouthed and muddled from whatever Garret… I stopped.

"Yes," I choked.

She turned around and I saw a small girl standing in the doorway. She held a bottle of water and looked at Leandra before stepping inside.

"Hi," she said, when my eyes flicked to her.

"Hi," I answered.

Their kindness was overwhelming. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted complete and utter oblivion.

"Here," she said, dropping white pills into Leandra's hand before handing her the bottle.

Leandra turned and held them to me on her upturned palm.

"You'll sleep for a while," she said, "you need us to contact anyone?"

 _My boys,_ I thought, but my mind shut it down. They would be worried. _They would be beyond worried,_ my mind corrected, _they'd be frantic._

"My phone," I said, "Kell, Taylor, or James."

She gave a short, decisive nod. I took the pills and put them on my tongue, reaching out a hand for the water. I took a small sip and laid my head back on the pillow.

"It won't take long to knock you out," she said, "we'll find your people. But you're safe for a while. Your social worker won't be back, and we can keep the cops out."

"Thanks," I said, closing my eyes, hoping sleep would take ahold of me before my memories did.

Leandra started talking to the girl who'd brought me pills, and I focused on their voices; they talked about the substitute matron, Jasmine, they talked about someone named Tish, they talked about breakfast.

Their words formed a jumble in my mind, until it was just the rise and fall of their voices that I heard, and then the fade in and fade out of of volume, and then nothing.

 **Leandra's Point of View**

I watched a tiny crease form between Lyric's eyebrows. Her eyes were squeezed tight, even though her breathing was regular and I could tell she was asleep. She was forcing out the world and chasing senselessness.

Peck watched her, head tilted to the side, eyes blinking like a bird, as she took a step closer and then one more.

"We kept her clothes, right?" she asked me, her eyes glued to the bruises on the hands Lyric had clasped tight around her body.

"Yeah," I answered, standing up and groaning a little after having knelt for so long. My knee ached a little and I rubbed it before straightening up.

"What's the matter old lady, arthritis?" Peck joked, her head cocking to the other side.

I glared at her before shooting her… well, the bird.

We left the room, and I saw the other girls gathered quietly around the top of the stairway. There were nine of us all together; Hero, Peck, Di, Bailey, Chiara, Pacy, Ariel, and Bethany, though Bethany was out right now on a snack run.

"She asleep?" Hero asked.

I nodded, "Fuck," I said, flicking my hair out of my eyes, "someone worked her over good."

"If Tish…" Pacy began.

"I know," Hero answered, "but she's not. The cop dismissed her, you heard him. And that was the most backbone Jasmine has ever shown. So…"

"We bagged the clothes," Chiara said, "we can wait a bit, make sure she's totally out, and Di can take pictures."

"I don't know," Bailey interrupted her voice quiet, "that seems like a violation of her trust. She's sleeping and trusting us to watch out for her."

"But the bruises will fade," Chiara argued.

"Not that much," Bailey replied.

"Okay," Hero directed, taking charge like she always did, "Di, find the numbers. Bailey, you sit with her, if she wakes up, call me or Leandra. The rest of you, monitor the cameras, we don't know who did this and we don't know if they're going to try to get her back. So until we know for sure, and we talk to whoever these people are she wants us to call, we're on lockdown. Get Bethany back here. I want everyone accounted for."

Pacy pulled out her phone to call Bethany while Diana pulled a phone out of her pocket.

"Is that hers?" I asked.

Diana nodded, "I had to charge it, it was dead," she answered as she thumbed through it.

"Kell, Taylor, and James, right?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, "that's what she said."

"Those are the only numbers programmed in here," she said, "No. I take that back. Someone named 'Constance.'"

"Texts?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered, and then her face paled, "They're looking for her."

She thumbed across it again and then put it to her ear. It was answered right away, the voice loud enough that I could hear.

Diana answered quickly, "My name is Diana. I am from Sheltering Arms. Lyric is here. She is safe for now."

She pulled the phone away from her ear, and pressed a button so we could hear the conversation, "… Augusta?"

Diana made a sign to me to grab a pen, "What's your last name, James?" she asked.

"McInnish," was the tight reply, "I want to talk to her. Put her on the phone."

"She's sleeping," Diana said.

"I can't know…" he started, and then stopped,"Who else is listening to this?" he asked, suddenly.

Diana hesitated, and his voice got louder, "Who else is with her?"

Hero indicated to Diana to hand her the phone, taking it off speaker and putting it up to her ear.

"My name is Hero. I'm the mentor here. I don't know you," she explained, "and I'm not telling you how many of us there are. There are enough of us to keep Lyric safe for a little while. But this is a home for delinquent girls; and we don't have a lot of say over what happens to us."

I watched her listen closely, and nod tightly, "She told them," she said, "they didn't believe her."

I heard a sharp outburst from the phone and Hero jerked it away from her ear before putting it back carefully, "Yes," she told him quietly, and a little sadly, "I believe she was drugged."

"Okay," she said, "we'll be waiting. Call on this phone when you're close by so we know to expect you and we can get you in."

She hung up the phone and bit the inside of her cheek as she slid it in her back pocket, "They're on their way," she said, "should be here around," she looked at her watch, "soonish."

We walked down the stairs and into the big common room. Ariel and Pacy were each on their laptops monitoring the outside cameras. Some girls were sprawled on the sofa reading and doing homework, while a few others were staring off into the distance, their minds clearly disquieted at what was happening.

The door opened and shut and Bethany walked in. She held two large bags of groceries, "I didn't even have time to get m'dang Pringles," she complained, dropping the bags on the floor.

Chiara walked over and picked them up to bring them into the kitchen and unload.

"What's going on?" she asked, taking in the general aura of anxiety that permeated the room.

"We got a new girl tonight," Hero answered, pulling out one springy curl and then letting it snap back, "Cops and CPS brought her. Beaten, drugged, raped. She asked to go to the hospital. They refused."

Bethany's mouth dropped open and her eyes got wide, "Get the…" she stopped, shaking her head of curly pink and brown hair, "that's just wrong."

"Di got into her phone," Hero explained, "called up the people she'd asked us to call. But we need you to do the background check on the guy we talked to."

Bethany sat down on the couch, pushing Pacy's feet out of the way and making a 'give me' motion to her. Without taking her eyes off the screen, Pacy reached between the cushions of the couch and handed Bethany her laptop.

"What was the name?" she asked, her perfectly manicured fingernails clicking gently on the keys.

"James McInnish," Hero answered.

"I know that name…" Bethany said under her breath as she opened various programs, "Uh, yup," she said after a moment.

"He's the kid whose parents are on the run. Embezzled a bunch of money, left their kids high and dry. Though, not that dry," she said under her breath, then, "Huh. That's strange."

"What is it?" Hero asked.

"I can't get access to his info," she said, "I can see it exists. But it's shut up…" her voice trailed off as she pressed more keys, "Well…shhh…." she stopped and leaned back against the sofa.

Hero crossed her arms and stared at her, waiting for her to speak. We all knew, if Bethany didn't want to talk, she wouldn't, so we all just needed to shut up and wait.

"I just got smacked down," Bethany finally said, making a sweeping action with her hand, "and now I need a new computer."

"Huh?" I asked.

"I wasn't expecting those layers of protection, and I am effectively put in my place. I can't tell you anything about this guy, except what is public knowledge and related to his parents. We're gonna have to go on instinct," she sighed.

Hero's eyes narrowed; she didn't like instinct alone, she liked instinct _and_ knowledge.

"Fine," she replied, "but that means…"

"Hey Girls," Jasmine said, interrupting us, "how's the homework?"

"Good," we all replied.

"Need any help?" she asked.

"No," came the answers.

"Okay," she said, flightily before looking around, "where's Lyric?"

"She's sleeping," Hero answered.

A crease appeared between Jasmine's eyes, "She okay?" she asked.

Hero paused and raised her eyebrows, "I get it," Jasmine said, waving a hand at her, "dumb question. Of course she's not. But you'll help her out, right?"

"That's what we do," Hero said with a fake smile plastered on her face.

Jasmine nodded, then saw Bethany, "Did you finish shopping?"

"Yup," Bethany answered.

"Who's making dinner?"

"Me," Peck popped off the couch and went into the kitchen.

"Need help?" she asked.

"Nope," Peck answered, her heels tip tapping on the floor as she walked.

Jasmine sighed, "Alright," she said, "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Thanks," Hero said, giving me a look, "Thanks," I answered and the rest of the girls piped in their thank-you's as well.

"Okay," Hero said, waiting until Jasmine had left, "eyes on cameras, Bailey's with Lyric, doors and windows are locked and shuttered. It's the most we can do."

"Baseball bats!" Bethany reminded, smiling wickedly as she opened her laptop and peered at it nervously.

"And baseball bats," Hero said, looking at me.

That was my area of expertise. I bent my knees, remembered injuries making me ache all over again.

"Got it," I said, and went to collect the various misappropriated weaponry I hoped we wouldn't need.

 **Getty Team Seventeen Years Later**

 **Hero's Point of View**

I looked in the two-way window, the woman in front of me a far cry from the picture that had been sent to me. I stared at her closer, I couldn't look at hair color or smile or teeth, it was all different.

The woman sighed heavily and then turned on her side before calling out, "I can't sleep! NURSE!"

Bailey sighed behind me, "That woman is sorely trying my patience."

"I know," I answered, "but we could get a lot out of her."

Bailey nodded and headed out the door, "Don't worry about killing her with kindness," I called out to Bailey, "just try not to kill her."

One of the doctors entered just as Bailey left, and gave me a cheeky smile that was pointless to use on me.

"Hi There," he said, putting out his hand, "Sean Green."  
I held out my hand, "Hero Getty," I answered.

"You're the team that looks for missing kids?" he asked me, the sparkle in his eyes attempting to distract me from the seriousness of the question.

"Yes," I answered, turning around to watch Bailey with Kate Sorenson. I didn't play the charm game, and I wasn't interested in making friends with other people outside of my team and the McInnish team.

He watched Bailey with me for a moment before looking down at his phone. I saw him type a message and then receive one before he put it back in his pocket.

"You know her?" he asked.

It was no secret, "Yes," I answered.

"You know her daughter?" he asked.

"Which one?" I asked.

He looked at me quickly, "Marie," he said silently, pulling out his phone again.

"Can't find a birth certificate on the other one," I told him, picking up on the silent offer for information exchange.

"You think she's one of yours?" he asked outright.

I shrugged. That wasn't my story to tell. If the McInnish team wanted to share their suspicions, then I'd let them.

"Your team?" I asked.

"Blackbourne," he answered.

"Oh," I answered, stifling a smile.

I knew about the Blackbourne team; Taylor and Kell had met them during their entry into the Academy.

I heard a clang and looked quickly to the two-way where Kate was currently throwing the breakfast tray at Bailey and the innocent kitchen worker who had delivered it.

"Stop," Bailey said, "this behavior is unacceptable and if you continue, I will be sending up granola bars and yogurt and things that can be sealed shut. Additionally, you will lose the points you've been working for to earn television."

"Why are you punishing me?" Kate began to cry, "I never did anything to you! I'm sick!"

Bailey's face was kind but firm, "You're not fooling anyone Mrs. Sorenson. You are here to recover, but we know what you've done."

She fell back onto her pillows, a light sheen of sweat over her face.

I looked over at Dr. Green, who was observing her with narrowed eyes, "Is she always like this?" he asked.

"Her behavior swings between narcissistic and morose. She is especially cruel to people she feels are below her or that she may have a measure of power over, like that kitchen worker. She's a head case," I answered, "she's more your expertise than mine."  
"I'm a medical doctor," he replied, taking his phone out and looking at it, "not a psychiatrist."

He was silent for a moment before speaking again, "I'm going to need you to leave now, Ms. Getty," he said, giving me a small apologetic smile, "she has a visitor and will need privacy."

 _That little son of a…_

I gave him my best Yankee grimace, "Sure-ah," I said, laying on my Maine accent thick.

"Goodbye Ms. Getty," Dr. Green said, "See you."

"Yup," I said. _That's a promise_

 **James' Point of View**

I hung up the phone and squeezed it tightly. I heard the case snap and then it was pulled out of my hand.

"They need to be able to reach your bloody phone, James," Kell said.

"She's in Augusta," I said.

"How was she?" Kell asked, "you didn't talk to her?"

"She was sleeping," I answered, "I talked to someone named Hero."

I choked out a laugh that had nothing to do with humor, before running my hands through my hair.

Kell turned the car around and began driving in the opposite direction. I began texting Constance and Dr. Roberts. My mind traveling the ninety miles to Lyric, while the other fragments of my shattered brain were focused on the trailer, what we saw, what we missed, and what we found when we got there.

"I wish I'd gotten to kill her," Kell said.

I wasn't surprised; he was echoing my own feelings.

"Me, too," I replied, nodding.

When we had roared up to the trailer, kicking in the door despite knowing that Lyric was gone, we had been shocked to find that her mother wasn't passed out on the couch.

She was dead.

She'd taken something after Lyric had been taken and it had killed her.

It was yet another way the woman had messed up everything.

Instead of getting the information we needed, we had to call the cops and hang around while they showed up and then questioned us; seconds, minutes, hours, keeping us from Lyric.

I hoped she'd died a painful death, and if it hadn't been painful, I hope that she was roasting in hell for all eternity.

She deserved that and worse.

We were finally allowed to leave, though we were told we'd probably need to meet with the cops again, and as we were pulling away from the trailer, and I was reaching for my phone to contact Constance, it had lit up with Lyric's number.

My heart had stopped and I had cried out, making Kell swerve and pull off to the side of the road.

I had never heard of Sheltering Arms before, but I appreciated that the girl I'd spoken to had been honest with me. They were doing their best to protect her, but didn't know how well they could.

That was our job.

My job. The job I'd failed to do.

"One more hour," Kell said, almost to himself.

 _One more hour._


	59. Fallen Angels

**Fallen Angels**

 **Bethany's Point of View**

Oh boy.

I watched Pacy and Ariel flip between camera angles as they watched two guys get out of the fancy car that had just driven up.

The baseball bat felt solid in my arms, and I waited against the wall as Hero went to meet them.

Jasmine was asleep in her room. She was dumber than a box of rocks and twice as useless.

There was a firm knock on the door, and I swung the bat to the ready position. There were five kids in my family, and we all played baseball. I knew how to aim and I knew how to swing through. If I needed to, I could knock the block off of these guys.

I heard a polite voice, "Hero? I'm James McInnish. This is Kell Garewal. You have our Lyric."

Something about the way he said _our Lyric_ made me know he was one of the good guys. I had good instincts about this kind of stuff, so even if I didn't lower the bat, I knew that I probably wasn't going to be swinging for the nosebleeds any time soon.

"Do you have ID?" Hero asked.

I almost snorted. I saw her grab the identifications of both of them, before looking at me and Leandra. It was the sign to lower our weapons and we did, though I chose to rest my bat on my shoulder and not on the ground. Leandra used it like a cane, and I saw her lean against it. Her knee must be bothering her tonight.

"I can't let you see her alone," Hero said, stepping aside so they could come in.

 _Oh my god._ As they stepped into the light, I could see just how good looking they were. The pictures I found on the internet had not done this guy justice.

He looked like an angel. A really hot, ripped angel. Or maybe a fallen angel, because his face looked beyond sad.

The other one was more up my alley. He had longish, black curling hair and screamed _bad boy._ He was equally beautiful but differently. He looked tough and despite the blank look on his face, his eyes gave away his pain.

And he was in pain.

They both were and it was in that moment that the girl upstairs became more than an idea, and a real person who had something horrible happen to her. Something that had rippled outward and upset not only her world, but the world of these guys as well.

"We'll stay with you in the room," Hero was saying, "I don't know how she's going to react, and we promised she'd be safe while she slept."

The dark one, the bad boy, cleared his throat, looking at James while he spoke, "That's perfectly acceptable. But if she asks you to leave, I would like you to respect that."

Hero nodded and I attempted not to roll my eyes and swoon at his formality. He had an accent. If he wasn't so clearly taken, I had a feeling I would be throwing myself at his feet.

Just as the thought passed through my mind, it followed up with a _hmm._ I was getting the protective boyfriend vibe from both of these guys.

Whatever, I decided a moment later, not my business.

I looked at Hero, asking her silently, _are you good?_ She nodded, and I saw Kell and James exchange a look.

"Let me know if you need anything," I told them aloud, before turning around to go into the kitchen. I know I had some damn Pringles hidden somewhere. I had a feeling I was going to need them.

 **Lyric**

 _I stood at Chimney Pond, looking up at the rocky slopes of Mt. Katahdin. It was snowing and my fingers were numb, so I pulled them to my mouth and blew on them. When I looked up, the slopes were covered in snow and the only thing visible was the blue sky. I heard a slam and a rumble and then the snow was barreling toward me. I threw up my hands to protect my face but the snow covered me. I was buried beneath it; it pressed down on me, holding me still. I tried to move my arms, to dig or claw my way out, but they were pinned. I opened my mouth to scream, but there was no sound just the echo through my mind._

"Lyric," Kell said, his voice breaking, "beautiful girl. My beloved girl. I'm here."

"We've got you," James added, his voice barely above a whisper, "we're not leaving you. Not going anywhere."

I wanted to open my eyes to see them, but I was afraid it was all part of a dream, and that I'd wake up to find I was still pinned.

My eyelids were heavy and so I let myself fall back to sleep.

"Main tumse pyar kartha hoon," a voice whispered.

I felt a hand pass over my head and my eyes shot open.

"No!" I cried out, sitting up and scooting away as fast as I could from the hand.

My vision blurred and spun, but I could make out a dark shape near my bed.

"No!" I cried, "Don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry, Priya," the voice said quickly, "I'm sorry."

My eyes began to clear and I saw that it was Kell, and not Garret sitting on the bed, with James hovering next to him.

"Kell," I breathed, my heart racing, then, "Kell!" I cried before throwing myself at him.

He scooped me up and he enfolded me in his arms.

"James," I said, reaching out a hand for him.

I felt an additional set of arms wrap around us. I could feel my tears dampening Kell's shirt, but I could feel his tears, and James' tears on me as well.

They were both talking to me; apologizing, over and over and over, their voices broken and shaking.

I couldn't answer, I just existed. I felt their breath on me, their warmth, and their skin. I pretended it was just us and that nothing had happened.

Kell was the first to pull away. His eyes passed over my face, down my arms, looking at my legs that were still tangled in the sheets.

"Priya," he said quietly, "we need to bring you to the hospital."

I shook my head, and attempted to wiggle my way back into his arms.

"Baby," James whispered, "please. You're hurt."

I shook my head again, holding tightly to James' arm like it could keep me firmly planted with them and not swan-diving into the chaos that were my memories.

I heard a throat clear, and both James and Kell looked toward the door. I saw Hero standing with her back to the door, her arms crossed.

"She's already showered," she said, quietly, keeping her eyes on mine, "but I agree. She needs the hospital. You're hurt, Lyric," she said when I started to shake my head, "and you need the pill they can give you there."

I looked quickly at Kell and James. I wasn't an idiot. I'd run to the Rite Aid for the morning after pill for my mom more than once.

James face looked like it was carved in stone. He blinked, and his jaw muscle twitched, but he was still.

Kell, on the other hand, looked murderous. His brown eyes had darkened to black and his cheeks were a ruddy pink. I could feel the tension in his body, like he was getting ready to pounce, but he still held me gently.

As if he could sense me watching him, he met my gaze and his eyes immediately softened, "Please, Priya," he begged, "please. I need to know that…" he stopped and I knew he was going to say _going to be okay_ , but like me, he knew it wasn't okay.

"I don't want you to hurt worse," he finally said, "please."

I looked over at James who still seemed too upset to speak, though he stared at me with such a look of longing and love that I knew he wasn't upset with me.

Finally, I nodded.

I pushed the bedclothes out of the way, and Kell and James stood.

"Let me get you some clothes," Hero said, going over to a dresser and pulling out a pair of soft looking sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt.

Kell and James both reached out hands and she gave a piece of clothing to each of them.

"We'll go to an Academy hospital," Kell said, pulling the shirt over my head.

"Constance will be there, and another Academy doctor," James said, kneeling in front of me, waiting for me to put my foot in the sweatpant leg.

I shifted my weight and winced.

James eyes widened at the look on my face and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can I touch you?" he choked out a moment later, his eyes opening so they could burn into mine.

I nodded, placing my hands on his shoulders.

His fingers reached for my skin, gently touching the back of my heel. I saw a bruise on the top of my foot, and as James gently exerted pressure, I lifted it. His head dipped and he pressed his lips to the top of my foot, slowing pressing it into the sweats and through the foot hole and then moved to the next foot. He watched me carefully shift my weight again, and though I tried to keep the look of discomfort off my face, I knew he saw it. He slowly moved the pants up my legs, stopping when he reached my knees. There were two clear bruises in vague handprints on the inside of my legs. He kissed one bruise and then the other before moving the pants higher. Finally, he had them straightened and in place, but he stayed kneeling in front of me. His head bowed and his shoulders heaving like he was out of breath.

I kept my hands on his shoulders, waiting.

His head moved toward me, until he could rest his cheek against my stomach. He lifted his arms to wrap around the back of my thighs and I embraced his head. I could feel him shaking and sobbing, though he didn't make a sound.

We stood that way for a while. Me holding him, staring down at his dark head, my heart breaking for his pain, for Kell's pain, for the pain Taylor must be feeling, wherever he was, and weighed down by a guilt that was starting to take hold of me. I should have fought harder. Why had I drunk that hot chocolate? I could have avoided this whole thing if I'd just been smarter.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

James' head whipped up, and his eyes, wet and red, burned into mine, "No," he said, standing up. I could feel Kell move behind me, placing his hands on my waist and dipping his head against my neck, lightly pressing his lips there.

"This is not your fault," he said, "you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing!"

I looked down, focusing on the buttons of his jacket.

"Lyric," he said, "do you hear me? This isn't your fault."

I nodded. I heard him. I didn't agree, but I heard him.

He pulled me into his arms and I was immediately comforted by having both his and Kell's arms around me. I closed my eyes, breathing in their unique scents.

I felt a vibration from one of them, and then James was pulling back, looking at his phone.

"Taylor," he said, answering my unspoken question, "he needs to see you."

"We'll meet him at the hospital?" I asked.

James looked relieved at my acceptance of going to the hospital, "Yes."

"Garret," I started, my voice shaking nervously as I asked the question that drove panic through my heart, "he won't come. He won't be there. Please."

I felt terror building at the idea of seeing him again. I shut my eyes.

"No," James answered, "no Lyric. Taylor went to find him and he's gone."

My eyes snapped open and I stared at him in confusion.

"That's what Taylor was telling me. Garret's gone. They're all gone."


	60. Sang's Lyric, Part 2

_Hi Everyone: Sorry there has been such a delay between chapters! But this next bit is a beast! The bolded sections are chapters. I'm posting it in one document. There will be more- the last chapter here isn't the conclusion, but it is starting to wrap up. Please comment! I save all the comments and re-read them:) ~Ripley10_

* * *

 **I Want to Swim Away**

I forgot about the girls at Sheltering Arms as soon as we walked out the door. My entire focus went inward; hands on my wrists, hips against my hips, lips on my neck.

I wanted to crawl out of my skin, take it off, shake it out, scrub it, get a new one, anything to make these remembered sensations go away.

Kell cradled me in his arms, walking us to the car. James was close behind us, a hand on my head, a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to grimace with each jostle or bump, but the truth was, I hurt all over.

James jumped in the backseat and held his arms out. Kell hesitated and I knew that he didn't want to give me over. I looked up at him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but I could see the struggle in his eyes. Finally, his face became determined and he gently placed me next to James.

James leaned against the back window, one leg against the back seat, and pulled me into his chest. I was able to rest my back against his, and his arms enfolded me. I felt him kiss my head.

"I'm so proud of you," he said quietly in my ear, "I love you so much."

 _What was he proud of? That I didn't fight? That I didn't scream?_

I didn't answer, but let my eyes close.

I felt the car stop and opened my eyes, surprised, but grateful I'd fallen asleep. I looked up and saw we were pulled up to a Victorian style house.

"I thought we were going to the hospital," I asked, confused.

"This doctor can do the same things as the hospital," Kell said, looking back, "but I called a doctor I know and he referred you to her, she is familiar with assault and can examine you."

 _Assault._

The term echoed through my head over and over and over. I looked at Kell's face staring until he became blurred and amorphous.

"What?" I asked, trying to stay present but wanting to disappear.

"There's a doctor here who can help you," James said slowly, watching me closely.

"Okay," I answered.

Kell got out of the car and picked me up. I saw the door to the house open and a woman stepped out, holding the door open for us.

"Hello Kell," she said, "James, Lyric. My name is Dr. Mason."

"Hi," I answered, "nice to meet…" I trailed off.

She smiled at me understanding, "My exam room is this way. Let me tell you about what to expect."

She began to elucidate the examination and documenting progress. I tuned in and out while Kell and James brought me back to the room. They sat on either side of me on the exam table as she explained. Each of them held one of my hands. I heard words like, _photograph,_ and _bloodwork,_ and _emergency contraception_.

"Where's Taylor?" I asked, interrupting the doctor's monologue, "is he okay? Is he mad at me?"

Kell's eyes glanced sharply toward James and then back, "He'll be here soon, Priya," he replied quietly.

"Do you have any questions?" Dr. Mason asked me.

"About what?" I replied. I had barely been able to follow the conversation, I just wanted her to do what she needed to and then I wanted to go. _Where_? I didn't know, but I wanted to go.

I got through the next period of time by staring at Kell and James. They stayed with me, for the blood draws, and the questions, but I wanted them to leave when the doctor told me she had to take photos of my injuries and then do an internal exam.

"We want to stay," James said, "please Lyric."

I shook my head. I didn't want them to see me. I didn't want them to see bruises and only thing of me bruised, or worse… My sanity teetered on a knife's edge.

"Please," I asked, my voice shaking, looking at Kell to please understand, _please._

But he shook his head.

The idea of them seeing me, like this, at my lowest and weakest and most messed up, undid me, and my mind just shut off. Like, poof. A switch flipped and the next thing I knew, the doctor was helping me sit up and moving my legs over the side of the exam table.

"You're done?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "you needed a stitch, but it will dissolve. The police are on their way."

"What town is this?" I asked her.

She looked at me confused, "We're in Augusta," she said slowly.

I nodded my head, "How did I end up in Augusta?" I asked, "I don't remember the ride."

She rolled her chair closer to me and looked at me in concern, "Lyric," she asked, "what do you remember?"

 _No no no._

Poof.

 **A Well-Executed Plan**

 **Kate**

I put my hand against my belly, pressing hard where I just felt the tiny little flutter that let me know my baby was awake.

Garret was looking like a kicked puppy, gazing longingly down the driveway, as if that little slut was going to coming bouncing, or roller skating, or whatever the hell it was sluts did, begging him to stay. Maybe she had. I didn't know and I really didn't care.

I should have known when Garret said he wanted to become guardian for a niece! We've been here a year and suddenly he's tracking down family he's never made an effort to see before, and telling me he wants to bring her home, and that she'll help me out around the house. He doesn't even like children, why didn't I suspect anything when he developed an overwhelming concern for one? He never made any effort to be with Marie. The most he would do would be to bring her to storytime at the library once in a blue moon.

Help me? She was supposed to help me! I laughed out loud.

I certainly didn't need the kind of help she'd given.

My blood pressure started rising, I could feel it under my skin, making my heart pound and my head ache, making my already tired and stressed body feel even more tired and stressed.

"Mommy?" Marie asked me, and I looked down at her.

She was watching me, pulling on my hand and I hadn't even felt it.

"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

"Tell me about Grammie's again," she demanded.

I sighed and looked over at Garret who was checking out the moving van.

He thinks that I did this in a day.

What an idiot.

If I didn't need him to survive, I would have left him long ago.

I knew after that hospital visit, when that… that… whore… was surrounded by boys; the richest boy in town, and the foreign one, and the cowboy, that she was up to something. She wanted to stay with the rich boy? Let her. I wanted her gone.

And Garret?

He wanted her to come home with us. Like I would ever _ever_ let that dirty-minded, husband-stealing bitch through my door again.

I had called that night. I had arranged for Garret to take a position in my father's architecture firm. After all, that's where I met him. It was good enough for him once, it would be good enough again.

We would go away. Get away from this town, and that _girl._

 _This! This_ is what happened when parents let their daughters run around without supervision. They slept with everyone they met. It didn't matter if the entire town was looking at them, _judging them._ They did whatever they wanted, and didn't care about the consequences.

My mouth was dry and my head was pounding now.

"Garret," I said with finality, as the movers closed and locked the back of the van, "let's go."

 **Garret's Point of View**

Kate wanted to go. She wanted to be closer to her family, in Illinois, but how was I supposed to leave Lyric?

She needed me.

And after what we had done.

A man didn't just leave a woman after that.

Kate finished directing the movers. It was amazing what enough money could buy.

One day's notice and we were packed and moving, and our house back on the rental market.

I rubbed my hand across my chest. When I left here, my heart would stay.

Maybe I could come back for Lyric.

I rubbed my forehead. Everything was happening so quickly. I had planned on courting and dating, humoring, and first kisses. Instead, everything had been rolled up into one quick event, which, though beautiful, was not how I had hoped it would happen.

"Let's go Garret," Kate snapped at me, standing up and stretching after buckling Marie into her carseat.

Was this really my life now? A pregnant wife and a toddler and a job and that's it? What about dreams? What about aspiring for more?

Lyric understood that. She aspired for more, getting out of that trailer, good grades in high school.

I felt a tiny prick of unease about the police report I had made this morning, but when I'd returned, Kate had taken one look at me and told me to make the call.

She told me I had "ruined everything."

Not for me.

I had taken a step toward the most amazing and incredible thing that had ever happened in my entire life.

I thought about Lyric's eyes, her hair, her soft skin.

I would love her until I died.

I moved like a robot to the driver's seat of the car, buckling up, and putting in the car in drive. Heading toward a future I didn't want, away from the one I did.

 **Soon- Taylor's Point of View**

I roared up to the house, Constance and Dr. Roberts giving me looks of disappointment when the tires squealed.

"The plan Taylor?" Dr. Roberts asked.

He'd been moving me forward since the hospital. I had my ten minutes and now it was time to act. I was feeling out of character; out of my mind.

Planning was what I did; I thought, I planned, I executed. Now I just wanted to execute.

I took a deep breath, clearing my mind of Lyric and what had happened at school, and focused only on the dirt bag behind those doors.

I looked up the driveway, and at the garage that was open, and empty.

I looked at the house.

The curtains were wide open, and there was a light left on in the kitchen. I could see through the picture window without even leaving the car.

"He's gone," I muttered in disbelief.

Constance opened her door and got out. Dr. Roberts followed and I did a moment later, shaking myself from the stupor of incredulity.

I pushed open the door and stepped onto the grass. Already the property had that weird feeling of abandonment, a garden hose was still laying on the lawn, I could see a bicycle pump in the garage.

Constance tried the door, "It's open," she said, and walked inside.

Dr. Roberts followed and I trailed in last.

No one was here.

There were dirty footprints tracking through the house, all different sizes, mostly boots, which made me think that they'd hired movers. No one could move this fast without help. I walked through the living room, into the kitchen, opening cabinets, looking under the sink.

Constance walked up the stairs and Dr. Roberts followed.

"There's nothing here," she called down.

Dr. Roberts appeared behind me, "It's empty. They didn't leave anything important behind. We'll have someone look through the records, see if they left a forwarding address."

I shook my head, "I'm sure they didn't. Let's go," I directed, my desire to be with Lyric overwhelming my desire to kill Garret.

We filed out of the house and into the car; Constance's phone pinged as we got in, and I looked at her, waiting for the news.

"They're at Mason's office," she said, "Lyric asked about you."

I backed out of the driveway quickly, and headed out of the development, "How is she?" I asked.

"He's not updating on her well-being, just where they are, Taylor," she told me.

I ran my hand through my hair as I waited at a stoplight.

"Ninety minutes," I said to myself.

I could be there in ninety minutes.

 **In and Out- Lyric's Point of View**

 _I need you._

It was as if I conjured him as soon as the idea crossed my mind.

"Hey Crash."

I blinked, surprised, looking around the room where I was sitting between Kell and James.

Taylor stood in the frame of the door, watching me closely, a small sad smile on his lips.

"Hi, Tex," I answered, giving him a wobbly smile.

He took one step toward me, and I stood up, he shook his head at me, but opened his arms and scooped me up, lifting me until my feet came off the floor.

"I'm sorry I didn't stop him," he choked, and I felt his knees give way until we ended up on the floor, me splayed gracelessly across his lap while he embraced me tightly, raining kisses on my head, my forehead, anywhere he could reach, "God, Lyric. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I told him, my mind threatening to shut off, shut down, wink out like stars in the morning, "if you believe anything, please believe that."

I felt other arms enfold me and I wiggled an arm free to grasp the other boys, "It's not your fault," I told them quietly, "you're here. We're together. None of this was your fault."

I heard a sniff and a sigh, a drawn breath released, "I won't forgive myself, Lyric," Taylor answered, "I can't."

I heard a throat cleared and I looked up, I saw Constance and an older man, someone I didn't recognize staring at me kindly.

I felt my heart start to pound and my breath got shallower.

"Lyric," Kell's voice was deep and calm, and though Taylor continued to hold me in his arms, he took my face between his palms, "look at me, Priya. In and out. Breathe with me."

"Remember, Crash?" Taylor reminded me, his hand started at the top of my head, "Breath in," I took a deep breath through my nose at his direction, and as he stroked down my head, "breath out," I let the air out through my mouth.

I felt my hands gathered and knew it was James. He began touching my fingertips with his fingertips and I realized he was counting with me, "One, two, three," breath in, "one, two, three," breath out.

"This is Dr. Roberts," Taylor told me, "he's a friend and he's going to help us."

I stared into Kell's dark eyes, letting Taylor's words sink in.

Kell raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to answer. I gave him a slight nod.

"We have a decision to make," Dr. Roberts said, "Dr. Mason here has confirmed that you were raped, but you are now officially in state custody."

I watched Kell absorb the information, and his eyes shot quickly to Dr. Roberts before focusing back on mine.

"She's not going anywhere but with us," I heard James say and then he squeezed my hands.

I could feel my anxiety rising again, my mind starting to create a shadow or cloud over me, wanting to suck me back into safety. I fought against it, trying to stay present.

"You're staying with us," James told me and I turned my face to his.

He was completely pale, his beautiful eyes bloodshot and weary, "You. stay. with. us," he said, infusing every word with purpose.

I nodded my head and the shadows retreated.

"I want to go away," I told James, before clearing my throat, and shifting my body slightly to look at Dr. Roberts, "please. I don't want to stay here anymore. I don't want to…" my voice shook and I took another breath, feeling Taylor's hand on my head, "can we just go somewhere?"

Kell, James, and Taylor all exchanged looks, before turning their heads toward Constance and Dr. Roberts.

"All right," Constance answered, and I noted the exhaustion in her voice, "I guess the question is: do you want to go to Texas or South Carolina?"

I saw Taylor's face pale slightly at the mention of Texas, "South Carolina," I said quietly, "They have scorpions in Texas."

 **One month**

"I honest to God don't understand why everyone hasn't moved south," I said, as I followed Kell outside and watched him lock the door to the condo behind us, "Check your phone, Kell, what's the temperature in Bangor?"

"Bangor was six hours away from us, Priya," he smiled at me, reaching for my hand and pulling my arm over his.

"Doesn't matter," I said, "what is it?"

Kell pulled his phone out, smiling down at the screen, "Thirty degrees," he said.

"Thirty degrees!" I scoffed, shaking my head, "I don't even need a jacket here! And it's almost Christmas!"

"I know, Priya," he said indulgently, "but you should still bring one. It gets cool at night."

"To you warm-blooded creatures," I argued, "but for me? The girl who has been freezing in the woods of Maine for sixteen years? I'm just fine."

Kell walked around the passenger side door of the car and opened it for me, "So you're sure you're okay with me just dropping you off today?"

I nodded, waiting for him to get in the driver's seat before I began speaking again, "I'll be okay. Dr. Grace is meeting me outside the building and said she'd even bring me home if I needed someone."

Kell nodded tightly, but I could tell by the lines around his eyes that he was worried. The lines were new. The tightness was new. All my boys had a weariness and an anxiety about them that they hadn't been before my… before I was…

I turned my face out the window and watched the houses blur.

 _Before I was raped._

There.

I thought it.

Dr. Grace would be proud of me.

She was helping me stay in the moment and not lose myself when I became overwhelmed by what had happened. She was keeping me in the present, engaging me.

She wouldn't let me be the Lyric-shell I had been when I arrived in South Carolina. She had a name for it: fugue state. It sounded lovely and musical, and it had served a purpose; my mind protected itself against what Garret had done to me.

I began tapping my fingers on each of my knees and moved my gaze; switching between one finger and the other, tracking the movement.

I felt the anxiety building up in my body start to dissipate and I looked over at Kell. He was watching my hands and lifted his eyes to mine when they stopped tapping.

He reached over and grabbed my hand, lacing my fingers with his and bringing the back of my hand to his mouth and kissing it.

"I love you," he said, his eyes dark and sad.

"I love you too," I answered, feeling sad that he was sad.

"So who are you following today?" I asked, changing the subject and hoping to take his mind off of me.

Kell gave me a knowing smile; I should have known I couldn't fool him.

"I'm with Dr. Roberts today as he does rounds at the hospital for the morning, we'll be in the pediatric intensive care unit, and then I'll spend the afternoon with Dr. Wolff in the psychiatric unit," he answered.

Kell had decided he was going to be a doctor; and I was so so proud of him. He had felt helpless when I'd retreated so far into myself that days would go by with no memory of them, or I'd find myself outside the house without having decided to leave my bed. Our family had been wrapped up tightly by the Academy. Constance had moved us into a large condominium and had stayed with us for weeks. Dr. Roberts had overseen my care, finding the best doctors and psychiatrists to help me.

And I was getting better.

I was using the CBT, cognitive behavior therapy, techniques that Dr. Grace had taught me.

But today was my first day on my own, without one of the guys waiting for me in the waiting room, and then spending the day with me at home.

James was working on a computer issue for the Academy and Taylor was… working out.

I took my phone out of my pocket and tapped away at it, checking my messages for the tenth time since waking up this morning to see if he had sent me anything.

"Is…" I cleared my throat and started again, "Do you think Taylor is avoiding me?"

I looked over at Kell, keeping my eyes trained on his face as much as I wanted to look away from him. Dr. Grace told me I needed to voice my concerns, my fears. Otherwise they would add to my anxiety, and make me worse. The guys didn't need me worse. They needed me better. They needed me to take care of them and to be less exhausted because I could see the toll I had taken on them.

"No," Kell answered quietly, after I saw the muscle tick in his jaw, "I don't think he's avoiding you. Not on purpose. I just think he's dealing with things poorly."

"He won't come to the Dr. Grace's with me," I told him quietly, "I asked him, you know. She thought it might help."

"The Academy has us meet periodically with psychiatrists, and it is required that we receive mental health support after a traumatic event," Kell explained.

"But Taylor hasn't," I finished.

"No," Kell replied, "he has not. But we are watching him. And Constance is with him."

I couldn't help the blip of jealous that appeared on my radar when Kell told me that. Constance had recruited Taylor from Texas, I knew that, and she was from there as well, so they had a relationship and a bond that was important. I understood that. And I knew she was really just trying to keep an eye on him, make sure he was safe and not getting into fights…

But I wanted to help him. I wanted to be the one who kept him safe.

How could I keep him safe, though? I couldn't keep myself safe.

I felt the anxiety bubble and started tapping my knees again and looking from finger to finger.

"We're here," Kell said, and I realized the car had stopped.

I looked up at him panicked, worried I'd lost time again.

He shook his head, "I was pulling into the space when you started tapping," he said, "barely a few seconds have passed."

I let out a breath, and leaned across the seat, "Thank you," I said, looking into his eyes.

"I understand," Kell answered, "I won't let you disappear, Lyric."

I gave him a smile and he leaned forward, kissing me gently on the forehead. When I moved my face to reach his lips, he'd already moved back. It reminded me of something else I'd wanted to talk to Dr. Grace about today.

I sighed, today's session was going to be packed full of issues.

I saw the door open and Dr. Grace's blonde head peaked out. She gave me a wave, gesturing for me to come in.

"Love you," I said to Kell as I put my hand on the door.

"I love you too," he answered.

I jumped out of the car and walked quickly across the parking lot.

"Hi Lyric," she said to me as I approached.

"Hello Dr. Grace," I answered, turning around and waving at Kell. I stood for a moment watching him drive away before I turned back to the doctor that would help me get my life and my family back on track.

"You look like you have a lot to say," she said, raising one perfectly arched brow.

I nodded, my finger lifting to my lips, "I think so," I answered.

"Well," she said, pushing the door opening wider and standing back so I could pass by her, "let's get to work."

 **That's Not the Way our Family Works**

James stood with his hands in his pockets, watching me on my fifth set of burpees. I ignored him, jumping to my feet and grabbing a towel to wipe my face before I took a long swallow of the water waiting for me.

He didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at me.

I moved over to the kettle bells, choosing a set that was heavier than the ones I had yesterday.

"I lied to her, you know," James finally ground out angrily.

I could tell he was pissed he had to speak first; that was fine with me. I kept lifting.

"I told her I had Academy work," he continued.

I grunted, my muscles burning and tearing.

"Then," he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a show of looking at it, "Kell sends me this. And I want to smash your fucking head in with one of those goddamn kettle bells."

There was a hitch in my lifting.

"'Is Taylor mad at me?'" James reads.

My eyes closed and I dropped the bell, sitting down on the bench next to me. I drop my head and prop my elbows on my knees.

James continued speaking, "'Is he avoiding me?' What the hell are you doing, Tay? She's trying to get better, she's working so hard, and you're leaving her."

I flipped my sweaty hair out of my face and stood up. I couldn't listen to him anymore.

"It's not her fault. I'm not mad at her. I'm not avoiding her."

"So tell her that!" James fumed.

I shook my head, I was done talking, I was going to act now. I was going to be stronger and I was going to find Garret. That was my goal. That was how I showed Lyric I would protect her, that I loved her. All the words in the world meant nothing because I'd failed her when it mattered most.

"I'll make it up to her," I ground out, lifting the bell again.

I felt the bell get ripped out of my hands and then James was spinning me around to face him. His strength surprised me. James' leanness was misleading, underneath that angel face he was a tough mother-fucker.

"You'll do it now!" he commanded, "we're looking for him, and we'll find him. But can you please," his voice changed, pleading, "talk to her. Don't let her feel like she's to blame, that she's done anything wrong."

I put my hands on my hips as I caught my breath.

I nodded, "I will," I sighed, "of course I will."

"Today's a big day for her," James said, "for all of us, really. Kell is dropping her off and Grace is bringing her home. She'll be alone for a little while. It's the first time…"

I felt panic rising in my chest. I hadn't known.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked, "it's a little soon."

"She's ready," James answered quickly, "if you went to the sessions with Grace you'd know that."

I didn't deserve to feel better.

"I know where your head is," James interjected, "you want to finish your mission before you take care of yourself. But you'll never take care of Garret if you're head isn't on straight. Our mission right now is Lyric. You need to put Garret on the backburner."

I shook my head, "Can't do that."

James got in my face again, "You need to do that," he commanded, "if you need me to make it an order, I will. That' s never how our team has worked Taylor. We take care of each other and we take care of ourselves. You're not taking care of yourself, and by extension, you're not taking care of Lyric."

I actually felt the knife enter my chest, scrape against my ribs and pierce my heart.

"She's at Grace's," James said, "go. Please."

I stood like a stature, my shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"She won't be alone if she's with you," he added, knowing I wouldn't be able to resist having my eyes on her when the alternative was that she was alone.

"Fine," I acknowledge moodily, "fuck."

James gripped my shoulders, ignoring how sweaty I was and pulled me toward him for a one-armed back-thumping man-hug.

"Thank you," he whispered.

I let myself hug him back, "Naw," I replied, "thank you."

 **Therapy with Taylor**

There was a soft knock on Grace's door. She had been leaning toward me, waiting for me answer. She sat back and grabbed her phone next to her when the knock came. She looked at the screen and smiled up at me.

"Taylor," she said.

I felt a huge smile break out on my face and I jumped up, running to the door and whipping it open. I registered Taylor's surprised look before I jumped up and wrapped my legs around him, burying my face in his neck.

"Hey Crash," he whispered against my hair.

I pulled back to look in his face. He smiled at me, his arms coming up between us so he could use his thumbs against my face. I didn't know what he was doing, until he swiped them under my eyes.

"Sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"Happy or sad?" he asked.

"Happy," I reassured him.

"I'm so glad to see you," Grace said.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the understanding in Grace's face. Taylor nodded and walked us to the chair where I had been. He sat down, pulling my legs over his and wrapping an arm around me. I rested my head against my chest and closed my eyes at the rightness of it.

"We were talking about intimacy," Grace interrupted.

 _Gulp._

I'd forgotten that was what we were talking about.

"Okay," Taylor answered, looking down at me as I lifted my finger to my lips and blushed.

Grace looked at me, waiting for me to speak.

"Um," I started, my fingers covering my mouth. Taylor reached down and took my hand away. I met his eyes and the love I saw there gave me the strength to keep talking.

"So," I began again, "I was talking about how we, how I…" _crap. Be an adult, Lyric. If you can't talk about kissing, you shouldn't be doing it._

"How since I was…" _damn, there it was again,_ "raped," _did it,_ "I've been sleeping alone and no one has kissed me."

I felt a shudder go through Taylor's body before his chest rose and fell with a breath, "I kiss you all the time," he countered.

I shook my head, "No, you don't," I argued, "not really. You kiss my head, or my forehead, or my hand. You hug me a lot, you all do. But no one has kissed me on the lips."

I heard Taylor exhale. He was silent, and I chewed on my lip, waiting. I flicked a nervous glance at Grace who nodded at me seriously.

I continued to wait, my anxiety growing with each passing moment.

Finally, Taylor sucked in a breath and began to speak, "You're right," he said, his voice quiet and surprised, "I didn't even realize it, but you're right."

He lifted my chin with his hand and stared at me, "I'm sorry, Lyric. I didn't even… I'm so fucking sorry."

He shut his eyes tight and I felt his entire body tense.

 _Oh no oh no oh no. I was making it worse!_

"Taylor," Grace interrupted, "talk about why you're sorry."

Taylor opened his eyes, "I guess," he looked around the room as he thought about his answer, "I just keep messing up."

"How do you mess up?" Grace asked.

I could feel the tension in his body. He had put on a lot of muscle in the last month, and resting in his lap like this, I could feel how hard he was, add tension on top of that, and it was like sitting on a block of stone.

"I didn't stop him from taking her," Taylor whispered, "I let him leave, disappear. Then I made Lyric think I was mad at her. And I don't even kiss her."

"No!" I cried, "no Taylor…"

Grace held a hand up to me, and I closed my mouth.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Grace asked, and I shot her a glare.

Taylor had no control over Garret. He'd gotten injured, severely injured, trying to get to me. What was she doing?

"I should have gotten to the classroom," he answered.

"How would you have done that?"

"Run faster," Taylor answered quickly.

"And when the teachers tackled you?"

"Fought harder."

"And when there were five grown men holding you down? Not to mention three football players? What then?"

"Fought harder," he answered again.

"And when they knocked your head against the tile floor, hard enough for you to be concussed and lose consciousness for two hours? What then?"

Taylor opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

"What are you sorry for?" Grace asked again.

"Letting Lyric go to class with Garret."

"What are you sorry for Lyric?" Grace asked, turning her attention toward me.

"Drinking the hot chocolate," I answered immediately. We'd been over this before. It'd been covered in some of our early day-long sessions.

"No," Taylor answered immediately, "Lyric, no. You couldn't have known. None of us could have known."

I stared at him, willing him to hear, to really hear, what he'd just said. I waited. And when his eyes closed, and opened again, blazing at me. I knew. He got it.

He sighed then, rubbing a hand down his face, "I hate it when James is right," he muttered.

I laughed and Taylor gave me one of his deep dimpled smiles. It had been a long time since I'd seen that. He cupped my face in his hands and tilted my head back, his lips lightly grazing mine.

My hands moved up to grab his elbows, following the line of his arms until I could hold his hands with mine. His tongue darted out, lightly tracing my lower lip before he tilted his head and I opened my mouth. His tongue immediately darted inside, tasting me. I had missed this. Missed the feel of him against me. I had worried he'd never kiss me again. Never see me as anything but a victim, someone to keep behind glass and touch with gloves.

His tongue was demanding, he commanded my response and I moaned softly and gave in, tangling with him, stroking his tongue, lightly biting his lower lip.

Grace cleared her throat, "I'm just gonna step out for a second."

Taylor pulled back, before he leaned forward again and placed another soft kiss on my lips, "You were almost done anyway, right?" he asked Grace.

"Yes," she answered, "I assume you're taking Lyric home?"

Taylor looked down at me, and I held his gaze, "Yes," he said, "we have a lot more kissing to do."

My cheeks flamed and I heard Grace burst out laughing.

"I want you to come back, Taylor," she said, "for an individual session."

Taylor looked resigned, "Yeah," he said, "okay. That makes sense."

I felt him shift and stood up. He stood up after me, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Tomorrow," Grace said, "bring Lyric. We'll meet first and then Lyric can join us."

Taylor nodded, heading for the door and holding it open, "That's fine."

Grace gave me a reassuring look and a happy smile. I smiled back before following Taylor.

 **Birthday Party**

 **Marie, 4 years later.**

Mommy made Sang's favorite cake, and put my favorite frosting on it. Sang didn't care, 'cause she's just a baby.

We started singing happy birthday and Sang's face got _real_ red and she hid her face in her hands. Mommy laughed and pulled her hands away before taking a picture. Sang looked at me and I knew she needed her big sister, so I stood next to her to help her blow out the candles.

When every one stopped singing, we looked at each other. Sang put her finger up to her lip, like she just started doing when she's thinking really hard, and I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I saw Mommy looked wicked mad, and Daddy looked really really happy, and I forgot to blow out the candles, but Sang did, and that meant that I wouldn't get a wish.

Sang didn't get a lot of presents, but it was still neat, because there were new toys, and she always shared. She wasn't like J.J.'s sister, who never shared and _always_ tattled, or even made things up so she'd get in trouble with J.J.'s mom.

We sat on the floor of our room and I was really careful taking the new My Little Pony out of the box. It's easy for me, because I'm six, and I even pulled out the really tiny elastic that holds the mane all pretty.

"Sang," Mommy's voice still sounded mad and she still looked mad when I saw her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Sang looked up and when she saw Mommy's face, she got really really nervous and put her finger up to her lip again. Mommy's eyes narrowed, and I knew Sang was in trouble, but I didn't know what she did.

I hoped I wasn't in trouble.

"You don't deserve all these toys," Mommy told her, her voice sounded weird, deep but trembly, "you got a lot of pretty things, but pretty things are for good girls, and you're not a good girl."

Sang's eyes filled up with tears and I wondered what she did, it must have been really bad for Mommy to sound like this and say those things, especially on her birthday.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Sang whispered, and she dropped the brush that she'd been using to comb out Applejack's tail.

Daddy came in behind Mommy and looked at Sang and then looked at Mommy and sighed, "What's the problem, Kate?" he asked her.

When Daddy called Mommy "Kate," it meant they were going to yell at each other. I took Sang's hand and pulled her a little bit closer. We both hated it when they yelled, and they yelled _a lot._

Well _,_ Mommy yelled; Daddy just slammed doors and went for long drives and stayed at work.

"Your daughter is going to corrupt our daughter," Mommy told him, whipping around and pointing at him.

"What does corrupt mean?" I asked.

Mommy looked over at me, but then she ignored me.

"No she's not, Kate," Daddy whispered, his voice sounding angry too, "Sang's a sweet girl, just like…"

"Don't!" Mommy yelled at him, "Don't say it! I tried! I tried, Garret, I brought her home and I tried to raise her right, but blood will tell. And that girl is going to turn out bad."

Sang squeezed my hand tight and her lip got all wobbly. She was going to get snotty too if she cried, that would just make Mommy madder so I squeezed her hand back. _Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry._ I thought.

But even if she's three, she's still just a baby and she started to cry.

"Stop it!" Mommy yelled at her, stamping her foot and she took one mad step at Sang and slapped her.

Right. Across. The. Face.

I gasped. Mommy never had hit her before. Mommy had never looked so angry with Sang before. She got mad, but she just put us in time out or made us go in our room. She hadn't hit us before.

Sang's hand went up to her face and she stopped crying right away.

Mommy kneeled down next to her and got really still, watching Sang, waiting. Sang's finger came up to her lip, and I looked at Daddy who was watching Mommy close.

Mommy's hand shot out and she grabbed Applejack and then she threw it at Daddy.

It hit Daddy and fell. He just left it there and stared at Mommy, and something about the way Daddy looked at her was just as mean as the way Mommy was looking at Sang now.

Mommy stood up and left the room. I heard their bedroom door slam. It was so hard that the glass ballerinas I had on my bureau jiggled and fell over. Daddy just sighed and bent down to pick up Applejack. He dropped him next to Sang, who didn't even look at him. She just sat there. Kind of shocked. Her hand still on her cheek.

Daddy knelt down and took Sang's hand away, tilting her face to look at it. But he wasn't looking at her cheek, he was just looking her over.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before," he whispered, turning her head toward the light.

He smiled real big, and gave Sang a kiss on the nose, and then he stood up.

"Try and stay out of your mother's way, Sang," he said seriously, the smile gone from his face.

And he turned and walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him.

He din't even say goodbye to me. He didn't even give me a kiss.

Sang had her stupid finger on her lip again when I looked at her and I knocked it away.

"Stop it," I said, mad at her. This was all her fault. I didn't know why, but I knew it was.

I picked up Applejack and the brush and went over to my bed.

"You stay over there," I said meanly. She was bad. Mommy said so, I didn't know why and I didn't know how, but I knew it.

"I'm playing with Applejack, and I'm playing with Rainbow Dash. You don't get to 'cause you were bad."

Sang just stood up, and went over to her bed. She sat on it, and stared at her hands.

Stupid baby.

 **Intimacy**

Taylor drove us home in record speed. When I would ride on the back of Kell's bike, and I would wrap my arms around his waist and close my eyes because the scenery whipped by so fast, I would feel this flutter in my stomach. There was something about the skill with which they drove, weaving through traffic, accelerating, shifting; that was so male, it made everything in me swoon. It wasn't very girl-power of me, to be turned on by watching a man drive fast and drive well, but that's what it was.

He pulled into the driveway and was around the side of the car and pulling me out almost before I could unbuckle my seatbelt.

He pulled me into his arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist and attached my lips to his. When I tried to look over my shoulder as he started walking, he growled warningly, and I giggled into his mouth. His hand came up to my neck, keeping my head in place while he continued to kiss me. There was no finesse in our kissing. It was purely, divinely desperate. It wasn't subtle nor was it skilled. All I could think was _lips lips lips,_ and drowned in the sensation of Taylor holding me. Our bodies separated for a moment while he opened the door, but then we were kissing again and the next thing I knew my back was on the couch and Taylor was hovering over me.

I opened my eyes.

"You'll tell me," Taylor whispered, pecking my lips again before drawing back, "if there are any bad moments."

I nodded. There wouldn't be. I was so thoroughly immersed in the sensations he caused within me.

His head lowered to mine, but I kept my eyes open, watching his green eyes come closer and closer. Even when he got blurry and cyclops-y, I kept my eyes open.

This was Taylor.

My Tex.

My love who wanted to protect me so much and hurt so badly when he couldn't.

"I love you," I whispered against his mouth, and his eyes closed, while his lips captured mine.

Each kiss was a like soothing a sore I didn't know I had. My lips were warm and achey, and he drew away that ache with his tongue. They pressed against mine and I let my tongue come out to taste him. I lightly traced his lower lip, feeling just a little bit of scratchiness where his lip met his chin. The scratchiness was so appealing that I moved away from his lips, kissing down his chin and along his jaw.

He lifted his face to give me a better angle, and I had to taste him. I gently rasped against his jaw with a sucking kiss, pulling his skin into my mouth, tasting it, and releasing it.

"Lyric," his voice was a sigh.

I kissed my way along his jaw until I reached his ear. I could smell his muskiness and the soap he'd used this morning. When I reached his ear, I bit down gently on the lobe, enjoying the way the soap filled my senses.

"I've wanted you so much," I whispered into his ear, feeling brave, "I've ached for you."

Taylor groaned and turned his head quickly, catching my mouth again, his tongue thrusting against mine, retreating and entering my mouth. The heat it caused in my body made me pant and arch into him. As I arched, he flexed until our bodies were completely aligned and I could feel him, hard and erect between my legs.

His lips moved away from mine and then he was mirroring the kisses I had just given him; kissing down my chin, down my neck, along my jawline, sucking and releasing the skin until he reached my ear and then whispering, "You're too much for me, Lyric. You're going to burn me up."

I pulled away to look at him, "I never thought I'd ever love anyone the way I love you," I told him.

His eyes closed and when they opened, they were bright and shining, "I love you, Crash," he whispered, kissing me again, "I'll love you 'til I die."

I shook my head, reaching around his back to hold him to me tighter. I hated that idea, I didn't want to think about death when I was so in love and felt so alive.

"Taylor," I said into his ear, "can…" I closed my eyes and gathered my courage, "can you take me to your bedroom?"

Taylor jerked away and studied me. Hard.

I didn't let myself look away from him. I let him see everything. My worry. My love. My utter conviction that this was right and he was perfect.

He blinked quickly, and I thought I saw his eyes get glassy.

"Okay," he nodded and cleared his throat, "yes."

He leaned down to kiss me again, "Yes, please. Yes."

"Hold on tight," he said, and using his arms, pushed up from the couch, wrapping his arms around my back and then striding quickly and purposefully up the stairs and into his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. One hand ran along my spine to hold my neck and keep my face still so he could kiss me deeper.

I let my tongue skim his, teasing him; withdrawing and then tracing again until he made a guttural sound and sucked my tongue into my mouth, drawing on it tightly. My body arched and lifted until my head was higher than his and I could hold his face between my hands and take control of the kiss.

It was too much.

It wasn't enough.

Two steps and the world tilted and spun, and he was laying me on the bed. He watched me closely, raising up on one knee and slowly unbuttoning the shirt he had on. I watched his fingers. They were strong and brown and I tingled with the knowledge that they'd soon be on my body.

He shucked away his shirt and then lifted the hem of the t-shirt he wore underneath it. He did that thing, that thing that I always loved, and that each of the boys did when undressing, and that never failed to make me squirm; he crossed his arms, and lifted it slowly over his head.

For just a moment all I saw was his beautiful bronzed chest, his smooth, flat, brown nipples and the golden trail of hair that ran down his belly before disappearing into his jeans. I reached out with one finger, not able to help myself and traced the line. His hair was soft.

I risked a glance to his face and saw he was watching my hand raptly. I inched closer to the button on his jeans and watched as his stomach rippled and contracted on his indrawn breath. I flicked it with my thumb and forefinger, opening it before sitting up, his legs on either side of mine and my face just in line with his nipples.

I had to taste him, and so I swept my lips back and forth against his chest until I felt the pebbled tip of his nipple. I touched it with my tongue and one of his hands came up to hold my head in place. I kept one hand on his waist and lifted the other to find his other nipple, circling it with my index finger.

Taylor shuddered and groaned, and I licked and sucked my way across his chest to his other nipple, giving it the same attention I had the first.

I turned my hand until my entire palm could touch Taylor's stomach and I slowly moved it down the waist of his briefs until I could feel him in my hand, hard and hot and silky.

"Lyric," Taylor breathed again.

I suddenly felt the overwhelming need to have that heat and length my mouth. I pulled away from his chest and using both hands, quickly unzipped his jeans and pulled both his pants and briefs low enough that he could spring free.

"Lyric," he said again, just before my tongue darted out and touched the tip of his erection.

"Oh God!" he cried out.

It was all the encouragement I needed. I didn't know what I was doing, but the sounds he was making told me I was doing something right.

I drew him into my mouth, taking the mushroomed head between my lips and tracing it's outline with my tongue. I sucked gently, not wanting to hurt him, before using my hand to hold him steady.

His hands came up to gently hold my head, and he began to move me up and down, showing me what to do. He held me like I was the stem of a flower and any movement too rough or too jarring would damage me.

I sucked on him, the way he had pulled my tongue into his mouth, and I tasted something warm and salty before he pulled away from me, and pushed me down on the bed until my back met the pillows.

"You have to stop," he panted, "if you keep that up, I'm going to come."

I felt myself blush with his blunt words. He smiled as I blushed, his dimples deepening and he lowered his body against mine. His hair falling around both our faces.

"I really don't want to come until I'm in you, Lyric."

My face was on fire, but I somehow found the words, "You should probably undress me then."

Taylor laughed, tipping his head forehead until it touched mine.

"And probably your boots, too," I added.

Taylor threw his head back and laughed, "I'm all romance, aren't I?" he joked.

I pushed his hair back, holding it away from his face with both hands before whispering seriously, "Yes."

Just like that the mood changed. He jumped off the bed and started stripping out of his clothes. I ripped my shirt over my head and pulled off my leggings. I'd lost my shoes somewhere along the way already and reached behind me to undo my bra.

As I reached behind my back, Taylor stopped me, "Please," he said, kissing my shoulder as he came up behind me, "this is something I've kind of been dreaming of."

I let my hands flutter to my sides and he stepped closer. I could feel the heat of his entire body along mine. His rough fingers undid the clasp and followed the straps along my shoulders. He slowly lowered one strap, kissing his way up my neck, and then lowered the other, before dropping the whole thing on the ground.

His hands skimmed down my ribs until he could grip my hips and then he knelt behind me. I turned around, glancing over my shoulder as he leaned forward and closed his eyes, kissing me at the base of my spine before his hands took my panties and pulled them down my legs. He helped me step out of one and then the other before his hands guided me around. I stood in front of him and he glanced up at me, gave me a wink, and then a light push so that I fell on top of the bed.

I laughed as I fell, and then he was crawling up my body, and all humor drained away and I was consumed with Taylor.

Taylor's eyes.

His lips.

His hands.

His body.

His fingers stroked and trembled. My own trembled as they traced ridges and grooves, planes and valleys. My knees gripped his hips of their own accord, my body following instincts I never knew I had.

Our lips never separated until I reached between our bodies to guide him to my entrance. I looked up at him then. His eyes were squeezed tight, and sweat dripped down his face and along his neck, pooling in that tiny dip right at the base of his neck. I leaned up to kiss and lick there before pulling back to watch him.

His arms shook. The muscles standing out with the tension with which he used to hold himself back.

I shifted my hips and felt him slide along my folds.

His mouth dropped open and his eyes shot wide. His eyes held mine and I smiled at him.

I had never wanted anything as much as I wanted to feel him inside me; to be joined with him bodily the way I felt I was joined to him spiritually, soul to soul, as corny as that sounded.

"I love you Lyric," he said again, even though every movement, every breath, every kiss, and every caress held the weight of his love.

"I love you too," I answered as I felt him slide inside me.

He moaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, and he held himself still as I adjusted to his size. It was an amazing sensation, until I felt him slowly withdrawn and then slide inside me again. He retreated and thrust, and I rose to meet him.

I could feel everything inside me contracting, pulling tighter and tighter, like holding my breath underwater for as long as I could before having to shoot to the surface and gulp in lungfuls of life-giving air.

He held himself above me, sometimes looking at me with such love, and other times groaning and nuzzling into my neck. I cupped his shoulders, scoured his back with my fingertips, gripped his hips, and held him to me tightly.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I cried out, close to something, that elusive something that the boys gave me that made me more than myself.

Taylor's fingers dipped into my folds, teasing and circling me, until I was drowning in sensation and he was rescuing me, giving me everything I needed to be me. Or better than me.

To be us.

 **Haze**

Taylor and I spent the entire afternoon in bed until my stomach began to growl and he laughed and pulled me upright. My head swam for a moment at the change in position, and he knelt in front of me, "Got it?"

"I'm good," I answered.

I felt shy for a moment, my body on display for him, but he gave me a look of such heat that I stopped trying to cover myself and got dressed like a normal person. He took my hand, leading me down the stairs.

I got a huge glass of water, parched suddenly, and drank it. The water dribbled out the sides of my mouth and I pulled the glass away quickly, wiping my mouth with my hand. I saw Taylor watching me curiously and I blushed, "Sorry."

He shook his head, "No," he answered, "I feel bad. I should have brought you down before this."

"Nuh-uh," I corrected, "I didn't want to move before this."

I opened the fridge and pulled out sandwich fixings. All of a sudden, I was ravenously hungry and absolutely nothing looked appealing.

I wanted fluff and peanut butter. I dropped the cold cuts and bread on the counter and checked the pantry. There was peanut butter but no fluff.

I wanted to cry.

I kept looking; hoping that I had somehow missed it.

Taylor put his hands on my shoulders, "What are you looking for?"

"Fluff," I sniffled.

He gently turned me around, bending at the knees so he could look into my face, "Are you…" his eyebrows drew together and his mouth turned down, "are you crying about fluff?"

"No," I scoffed, looking over my shoulder longingly at the pantry, "do we have any?"

"I don't think so," he answered.

The euphoria I had felt earlier drained away, leaving only disappointment. I was shocked and horrified at myself when a sob wracked my body.

I heard footsteps and then, "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know!" Taylor said, his voice high and upset, "she was looking for fluff and then started to cry!"

"Crash," he said, trying to lift my chin, but I shook my head and buried my face in my hands, "Lyric. Lyric. Look at me. Please?"

I felt a new set of hands on my shoulders and then James enfolded me in his arms, "Lyric," he asked, "what's wrong? What's going on?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing happened, Tay?" James asked.

James sounded accusative, but I didn't want him blaming Taylor for my sudden trip to crazy town.

"It's not Taylor," I gasped between wails, "I just… I really wanted peanut butter and fluff and there's no fluff!"

As the words left my mouth, I heard the absurdity of it, and my wails turned into guffaws. James and Taylor looked stymied.

"I'm sorry, guys," I apologized, "I'm really sorry."

"No," Taylor said, running his hand through his hair nervously and looking over at James, "no. It's fine. You really wanted fluff. And you were disappointed. Because of the no fluff. And so you cried. Because… we had… no… fluff…" his voice trailed off slowly.

I nodded. Taylor understood, that was all I needed.

I saw him reach into his pocket to pull out his phone, "I'm telling Kell to bring home fluff," he told me, "is that okay? Can you have something in the meantime?"

I nodded, wiping my eyes and stepping away from James.

I scoured the pantry. There was nothing that I wanted.

Except.

I shoved aside the cans of soup and beans, and there, in small plastic bags, was ramen.

"Oh thank god," I said, and ripped open the bag.

I just wanted the crunchy starchiness of the ramen, and when I saw the can of chocolate frosting, I was suddenly in heaven. I grabbed the can and the ramen, and went to the counter where Taylor had begun to make us sandwiches.

I broke the ramen into pieces and peeled off the paper covering the frosting, dipping the noddles inside and then popping it into my mouth.

 _Oh my god. Heaven._

I finished off the entire package, and went back to the pantry.

"I swear to god," I mumbled, "there better…"

"Here," James said, reaching in front of me and plucking the last package of ramen from the shelf.

I took it greedily, "Thanks," I said, pressing a quick kiss to James' cheek before sitting in front of my frosting again.

I broke apart the noddles and dipped it into the frosting, but just as I was about to pop it into my mouth, I stopped. I looked at the frosting-covered noodles. I smelled the chocolate. Nothing about it smelled good anymore. Nothing about it tasted good, and I needed to get the film of chocolate out of my mouth. My stomach heaved and I ran to the sink, filling up my glass and drinking the water as quickly as I could.

I stood for a moment, breathing deeply.

"Lyric," James said, "baby. You're so pale. What's wrong?"

I held up a hand, afraid if I opened my mouth, I would throw up all over the kitchen.

"I…" I started when I thought I had it under control.

My stomach contracted. _Nope._

I turned and ran, making it into the bathroom and lifting the lid with no time to spare. I closed my eyes as I emptied the contents of my stomach. It seemed to go on and on, until there was nothing left.

A cool washcloth pressed against my forehead and a hand rubbed my back. I reached up, flushing the toilet quickly and closing the seat.

The cloth covered my face, cooling down my overheated cheeks.

"Ugh," I said, opening my eyes to see James, Taylor, _and_ Kell crowding into the bathroom.

"What was that?" James asked me, moving beside me and rubbing my back.

"I don't…" I stopped as a memory, one I had buried deep inside my brain shuffled to the surface.

My mother.

Dipping ramen into ranch dressing, into spaghetti sauce, into a bowl of buffalo sauce, eating it like it was going out of style.

She had been pregnant.

My hand covered my mouth and I shut my eyes.

It was impossible.

I counted back in my head. They had given me the morning-after pill. That was like, ninety-seven percent effective.

"Eighty-nine percent," Kell whispered, and I opened my eyes, not realizing I had spoken aloud.

"It's eighty-nine percent effective Priya," he told me.

I saw the realization dawn on their faces. Taylor's eyes widened and he ran his hand through his hair, turning around and pressing his palms against the wall.

"One fucking day," he whispered, shaking his head, "I can't even have one fucking day."

He pushed back suddenly; his arm a blur as he punched the wall.

"Taylor," James' voice was cold, commanding.

His voice matched his face; he looked like he was made of ice.

"I'm sure it's nothing," James told me, his lips barely moving as he spoke, "just a bug. We'll get a test. It's…" he shook his head, his eyes moving so he wasn't quite looking at me, "it's impossible."

Kell kneeled next to me, reaching out a hand and pulling me into his arms. He wrapped me up tight, "It's okay, Priya," he said, "whatever it is. We are together. We are fine. We will still be fine. No matter what."

I nodded my head, but I knew. I was going to have a baby.

 **Yup. Definitely Pregnant.**

The receptionist waited for me to answer, but I drew a total blank. My mind flicking through weeks like pages on a calendar. This was really happening. I had a prescription for prenatal vitamins in my hand and a pile of brochures in the other. The doctor didn't need me back for another eight weeks. I had peed on a stick and the answer was affirmative; I was pregnant.

She kept her fingers poised over the keys, raising one eyebrow.

"Do you have school?" she asked me, "Do you want an after school appointment?"

I heard a snort from the waiting room behind me and my face began to flame.

Kell squeezed my waist, "First available, please," he said.

The receptionist nodded, typing in my appointment before filling out a small white card and giving it back to me. Kell turned with me, and I met the eyes of the snorter. A woman watched me, her eyes narrowed, staring at me harshly. I could read the judgment on her face. I tried not to look away, but my eyes automatically went to the floor.

I shouldn't feel ashamed. I'd done nothing wrong. Dr. Grace had told me over and over, being raped was not my fault, I hadn't deserved what had happened to me.

I lifted my eyes and met her glare, narrowing my eyes in return while wrapping my arm around Kell's waist.

If I was going to be a mother, I needed to stand up for myself. I couldn't have a child and be some timid shadow, flinching at people's meanness, staying invisible.

This changed everything.

I stood up straighter, "Congratulations," I said to the woman, looking at her protruding belly.

Her eyes widened marginally and her face flushed, "Um," she responded hesitantly, "thanks."

I nodded and left.

Kell kept a tight grip on me, and as we walked down the stairs to the car where Taylor and James were waiting, I realized it was because I was trembling. The guys got out of the car as we approached, Taylor opening his arms wide and pulling me into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Crash. I shouldn't have reacted like that," he said, kissing my hair before pulling back to look into my eyes.

I shook my head, "It's a shock."

James' face was still pale. He didn't speak, just opened up the door and waited for me to get in.

I sat in back with Kell while the other two guys got in the front and we drove away.

James began speaking as we drove, "I talked to Constance and Dr. Roberts. I found an OB/GYN that's Academy."

I bit my lip, one ear tuned to James, the other going down a path I had never imagined at sixteen; insurance, diapers, daycare, jobs… no more college, study, travel with the guys… I made a gesture, wiping it from my mind. I wasn't going to wallow. I needed to make plans and get moving.

"I need to get my degree," I interrupted, "James, can you help me finish the online things I need to do to get my diploma? Then I want to start taking college classes right away. I need something marketable; like nursing. Then I need Constance to get my paperwork in order. Taylor, can you call Constance about getting a copy of my birth certificate and social security card? I need a job and I need to start saving."

"Slow down," James interjected, "let's just focus on one thing at a time. We're having a baby. That changes things. But we're okay. I've got enough money to take care of us and this baby, and this baby's baby. Yeah, it's not the way we wanted it to happen. And yeah, I think we all feel like we just got sucker punched, but let's just take one thing at a time."

"James is right," Taylor turned around, giving me a half-smile, "it's gonna be fine. We all had a freak out, but we're better off than any one else our age in this position."

I cocked my head.

"Really," Taylor added smiling, "at least we love each other. I'm committed to our family. One hundred percent. We were going to have kids eventually, this is just much much _much_ sooner than we expected."

"Taylor is right, Priya," Kell said quietly, his voice melodic and calm, "we love each other. We will do everything we planned on doing, but we will just do it a little differently."

I nodded, leaning into Kell's arm that wrapped around my shoulder before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. He turned his head and his lips caught mine.

They moved firmly against me, his hand gripping my neck and curling under my chin, keeping my face open to his. He stopped, and I opened my eyes. His eyes were black pools, the pupil blown wide open. He bent forward again, slowly this time, keeping his eyes open and on mine before pressing one more kiss to my mouth.

"I love you," he whispered.

James pulled the car into the driveway. Kell opened the door and helped me out, giving me a little extra pull that sent me sailing into his arms.

"Careful!" James said, when I started laughing and wrapped my arms around Kell's neck.

We all looked at each other and laughed, the strangeness of situation, and the unexpectedness of the whole thing creating a weird kind of hilarity.

Taylor opened the door and we all tumbled inside, giggling stupidly.

"I'm glad someone's amused," I heard Constance say, "because I sure as shit am not."

The grin was knocked right off my face as I stared at Constance and Dr. Roberts. Constance stood with her arms crossed, and I saw Dr. Roberts sitting at the dining room table with his hands folded in front of him.

"What's your problem, Connie?" Taylor asked angrily, "it is what it is. We might as well…"

Constance held a hand up to stop him, "Let me stop you right there, young man," she said, her accent stronger. She suddenly sounded older and more world-weary, "why don't y'all sit down."

Dr. Roberts gave me a reassuring smile and patted the seat next to him. I moved to sit down, but Taylor grasped me around my waist and sat me in his lap after he pulled out a chair across the table.

"I realize it's too late to put the horse back in the barn," Constance began, "but I, and Dr. Roberts, are wondering where the Academy training may slipped up, and gave y'all the impression that it was okay to have sex without protection."

I had the sudden horrifying thought that Constance knew that Taylor and I had been together today, and that we hadn't used protection, which was so incredibly dumb of us. I shook my head and felt my cheeks blush.

"Jesus Connie," Taylor said, "what the hell's the matter with you?"

His arms squeezed me tighter, "It's none of your business."

I was surprised that he didn't deny right away that the baby was theirs. Connie was calling them out, but none of them looked ready to correct her.

Kell met my gaze and shrugged as it it didn't matter, but to me, it did.

"It's not theirs, Constance," I corrected, "I was…"

James reached over and took my hand, his eyes traveling over my face. I knew what he was trying to do, to tell me that it wasn't necessary to tell everything to Constance. Honestly, I was surprised that she didn't know it already.

I took a deep breath, "I was a virgin when Garret raped me," I told her, and her face paled. Her freckles standing out starkly on her face, "and I hadn't been intimate with the boys. This isn't their baby."

I saw the realization dawn on her face before her eyes filled with tears, "Oh Lyric," she said, reaching across the table, "Oh hon…" she looked over at Taylor, "Tay, honey, I am so so sorry."

I felt Taylor's shoulders lift, "This baby is ours," he said, "it's part of Lyric, and that makes it ours. We are all the father."

My heart filled to bursting with Taylor's words, especially when I saw James and Kell nodding their heads in agreement.

"We're a family, Constance," James said sternly, every inch the team leader, "what we choose to share with the Academy is completely up to us. You had no cause and no right to come here today with these questions."

James looked at Dr. Roberts, who blushed and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm a doctor, son. If you didn't know how babies were made and the proper precautions to take to prevent those babies, well then, I needed to scrap our Academy curriculum and start again."

I looked down at Taylor, noticing the color on his cheeks. I kissed his cheek, and he smiled at me. When I looked up, I saw Kell watching me. I blushed.

I saw the understanding bloom on his face and then he gave me a look of such heat, that I almost squirmed on Taylor's lap.

 _You can't look at me that way,_ I thought to him.

He smiled widely, his white teeth bright in his dark face. I saw Constance look between us before sighing.

"We're here for you," she said, standing up, "you need anything. Anything. You let us know. What a family needs, the Academy will provide."

I nodded, standing up, "Thank you," I said.

"I'm sorry, Lyric," she said again, coming around the table and enveloping me in a sweet scented hug, "Can you forgive me for being nosy and rude and judgmental?"

"Yes," I answered, "I suppose I will need to get used to the judgmental part. Everyone who looks at me is going to judge me."

James pulled me from Constance and looked into my face seriously. It made me want to snap to attention and salute him.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he said, "even if we hadn't been careful and that baby was genetical ours, you still would have nothing to feel bad about. You're ours Lyric. Let them judge you. They don't know what we have and they don't know how special it is."

My knees felt a little weak and I felt tears spring up in my eyes.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Kell stepped behind me, crowding me and wrapping his arms around me from behind, while Taylor gave me a lingering kiss next to my lips.

"Family first," I whispered, and they smiled. One thing about being pregnant and being a teenager…

No.

I took back that thought.

There were a lot of _things_ about being pregnant and a teenager. There was my life being in upheaval. There was trying to finish high school online. There was the realization that I had absolutely zero idea about how to be a good mother.

But there was also my total devotion to this tiny being developing inside me, and my complete faith that whatever happened, I would make sure she knew how much she was loved.

I smiled thinking about my baby.

I woke up one morning about eight weeks after finding out I was having the baby, and I just knew: _girl._

Kell and I had gone to the galleria and I was browsing through baby clothes, swooning over each tiny shirt or pair of socks. Kell was getting a pair of jeans at the attached guy section of the store after I had chosen a pair of stretchy maternity pants that I tossed over my shoulder. I was flipping through baby clothes when I heard a loud sigh next to me. When I looked up, I saw an older woman, definitely not pregnant, but probably a grandma or something because she had an armful of baby clothes as well. She looked at the pants and she looked at the onesie in my hands and she sighed.

 _This_ was the thing about being a teenager and pregnant.

The constant judgement.

I had taken to wearing baggy clothes, but I couldn't even button my jeans and I didn't want to live in James' sweatpants.

The woman's eyes traveled along my body, settling on my stomach.

"There's more to babies than just cute clothes."

This was the first time someone had said something. I had heard the sighs and the giggles, I had caught the shared glances between people, but no one had ever opened their mouth to chastise me before.

I opened my mouth to respond, but what was I supposed to say to that?

"I know."

"No, my dear," was the sigh, "I don't think you do. If you did, you wouldn't be in this position in the first place."

She stepped closer to me so I could see how her lipstick had bled into the lines on her lips, "Do the world a favor, and give that baby to someone who will deserve it. Someone who makes good choices and can provide for it. Don't make me, and all the other taxpayers, take care of it for you."

I felt tears spring to my eyes and I angrily wiped them away. I did not want to cry. I was not going to cry. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"You don't know anything about me," I was finally able to get out.

"It's probably not even your first," she huffed.

"Priya?"

The woman glanced at Kell and shook her head, "Of course," she muttered.

Kell's eyes widened before he stepped between us.

"Let's go Priya," he said, taking the onesie from my hand and walking to the register.

"I don't want it," I whispered. I would look at this onesie for the rest of my life and all I would see would be that horrible woman and her cruelty and the way she had made the first time I'd picked out baby clothes a nightmare.

I wanted a do-over.

Kell dropped the onesie on a pile of sweaters and gave the clothes to the person at the register. He kept one arm around me tightly while he slid his card through the reader with the other. I could feel the tension in his body, and I could tell by the way the muscle was ticking in his cheek that he was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut.

He got the receipt from the salesperson and pulled me toward the door, "Let's go."

He steered me to the parking lot and hustled me into the car, all without another word.

"What did she say to you?"

Thinking about what the woman brought another onslaught of tears, prompting Kell to pull into a parking lot and gather me into his arms.

"Tell me," he said into my hair.

"She just said all the things people are thinking," I answered sadly.

"They don't know you, Lyric," he said passionately, pulling back and lifting my chin with his finger.

His eyes blazed at me, willing me to listen.

"I just keep thinking," I started, wondering if I was ready to share one of my biggest fears.

He waited for me.

I remembered a time in elementary school when I had invited a girl over. My mom never cared if kids came to our house, but I didn't have anyone over. I didn't want them to see my mom passed out, or the dirty kitchen, and messy living room.

But all the girls were having sleepovers. I was never invited and I wanted to have one so badly.

So I asked a girl who sat at my table. She was a nice girl. Really quiet, like me. We sat together at lunch and read next to each other at recess.

She had smiled really brightly when I asked, and I'd recognized a kindred spirit.

The next day, she had approached me with a sad smile, "My mom said I can't spend the night at your house, Lyric," she told me, "but you're welcome to spend the night at ours."

I knew what that meant. It was code for _there's no way my kid is going to your troubled trashy home, but you can come to my clean and safe home._

I wanted to go, but when I'd asked my mom, she had scoffed.

"That girl's a stuck up bitch, and her mother is worse. No way."

I covered my face in my hands, but Kell pried them away, "Priya."

"What if people are mean to her?" I sobbed, before biting my lip, "They can judge me all they want. I'm used to it. But my baby. Kell. I don't want them to be mean to her. To exclude her or not let their kids play with her because she's mine."

"Priya," he breathed, his eyes closing tightly as understanding dawned on his face.

"Kell," I whispered, "I want her to have the best. But what if what's best for her isn't me?"

Kell's eyes opened and were like fire, "You are what's best for her, Priya. Never doubt that. _We_ are what is best for her. We are her family. We love her. We will build her up, make it so she never _ever_ doubts how much we love her, and how important she is to us."

His face blurred and I sniffed, nodding my head, but still worried, "She is meant to be ours. Why else would all of this happen? It was all leading to this. To this baby. You were born to be her mother. Just like Taylor, James, and I were born to be her fathers."

I couldn't hold in my sob, and Kell guided my head to his shoulder.

"Oh my love," he said quietly, "I am sorry the world has been cruel to you. But we love you. Can it be enough?"

I pulled back and saw the worry in his eyes. I used my thumb to smooth the lines along his forehead, making his eyes close, "You are my life, Kell," I told him.

His eyes opened and the look he gave me made my breath catch. I knew that look now, what it meant. It made me press my legs together and flutters begin in my stomach. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him.

"Home," he growled, and I could only nod.

The first time I had seen that look on his face I hadn't known what to expect, but now that I did, I was anxious to repeat the experience. I couldn't help but flashback to our first time together as he drove expertly through Charleston. Something about these boys weaving skillfully through traffic got me every time.

I put my hand on my stomach, "No bad boys for you," I thought to my baby, "only boys who put you first."

Dr. Roberts' and Constance's allegations had left me nervous and tired. Kell had taken one look at me and put me to bed, drawing the curtains and promising to check in on me. I had fallen right to sleep, and only awakened when I felt the bed shift. For a moment, I thought it was Taylor, but when hands pulled me against a chest, I knew it was Kell.

He'd kissed my cheek when I'd stretched, "Go back to sleep, Priya," he'd whispered.

I turned in his arms so that my head was tucked under his chin. He was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. I had slid my hands up his ribs, underneath his shirt and he'd drawn in a sharp breath.

"Kell…" I whispered, wondering if I should say something about how things had changed since this morning.

He stopped me by pulling away and catching my mouth with his own.

"I have missed kissing you," he uttered quietly before my tongue silenced him.

We dueled back and forth. I gripped his waist, trying to arch into his body, to create a friction that my body craved.

His hands moved around my body, resting on my lower back before stroking up my spine and gripping my neck. His fingers ran through my hair before cupping my face. I couldn't keep track of them, they were everywhere, but it wasn't enough.

I pulled away from his mouth and sat up in bed. A sliver of moonlight spilled through a space between the curtains and illuminated us just enough for me to see his eyes widen. I lifted off my shirt and pulled off my pants until I was clad only in a bra and panties.

Kell adjusted his body until he could kneel next to me and pull of his t-shirt. He inched forward, his hands reaching out for my arms. He watched his hands and I closed my eyes as they lightly made contact with my arms. He trailed his fingertips up and down my arms until he could grasp my hands.

"I love you, Priya," he said, causing me to open my eyes, "I will love you, and I will love our baby until I die. I promise you."

"I know," I whispered, "I love you."

I leaned forward until I could press my lips to his chest. He was so much taller than me that, on my knees like him, my lips landed below his neck. I felt him shudder and I let my lips linger. I rasped them back and forth against his chest, tilting my head so I could kiss the underside of his chin.

His hands moved up my arms and along my shoulder blades until he could run his fingers into my hair. He gathered it in one hand before pulling my head to my side and kissing down my neck.

I grasped his waist for support, the feel of his lips on me almost too much.

I inched my fingers below the waistband of his pajamas, stroking down his backside until I could each cheek in my hands and pull him closer to me.

"I have waited," he said into my ear, his breath tickling me until he gently bit the lobe, "I can keep waiting."

He was trying to reassure me, but I wanted him. Desperately.

I moved until I could pull his pants down. He jumped and I realized I almost caught his erection on the waist band of the pants.

"Sorry!" I apologized, "Sorry!"

He laughed, "It's okay."

He stood and pulled his pants down. I reached behind me to unhook my bra, pulling it down and throwing it over my shoulder.

He laughed again.

It was good to hear Kell laugh. We had spent too much time struggling to recover from the things that had happened to me, to how those things triggered emotions and past trauma. My boys had changed.

So the light in his eyes, the excitement I could read, it made me happy.

Kell cupped my face and gently guided me back to the bed. His lips pressed against mine while his hand kneaded my breast. I pushed against his hand, loving the rasp of his callouses against my skin, the strength in his fingers.

They glided down my skin where my legs writhedf against the sheets. I didn't even know that I was moving until I felt Kell's hand push against my knee, making room for his body between my legs. At his touch, my entire body jumped and I felt Kell pull back.

His lips left mine and I saw him studying my face, a worried look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, reaching up for him, but he moved, flipping us so he was on his back and I was above him.

My hair fell over my shoulders and he reached up to pull it to one side. I straddled him, one knee on either side of his body. I leaned forward carefully, a little unsure of my position. He lifted his head, his hands pressed against my back, fingers pressing against my spine. His lips touched mine and I just melted. I used one hand to prop myself up, but Kell lowered his hands to my spine, pressing my hips against his.

I gasped as his hard length pressed against me. He slid through the folds of my body and we both tore our mouths away, our wide eyes meeting in shock.

He thrust against me and my eyes closed again.

"Priya," he groaned, "I need a condom."

I felt him shift beneath me, his body turning toward the bedside table.

"Barn," I whispered, grabbing his shoulders and moving him back to me.

His eyebrows raised and I saw the confusion in his face, "It's too late," I said breathlessly, pressing against him, feeling him slide along my body deliciously, "can't get more pregnant."

He groaned, turning back to me and pressing his hips into mine.

I sat up, one hand on his chest while the other reached behind me, searching for him. He saw what I was doing and reached down, lining himself up for me. I moved forward just a little until the tip of his erection touched my entrance.

We both froze. Our eyes wide open and our mouths panting for air. I saw his chest rise and fall rapidly, and I was glad that I made him as breathless as he made me.

His hips pressed up just as I shifted my body downward. He slid easily inside me.

I groaned, rocking forward slightly.

Kell made a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a growl before he pulled almost all of the way out of me. I cried out, wanting him back inside me and he thrust forward.

We found a rhythm, I would rock and he would thrust. Soon the bedroom was filled with the sound of our breath and moans.

"Priya," Kell ground out, and my eyes snapped open.

I hadn't realized they had been closed. I had been so focused on his body. His chest beneath my fingertips, his body inside mine, his thighs pressing against my bottom. It was such an overwhelming sensory experience that I was amazed I hadn't had my eyes open the whole time.

I could see the strain on his face and I realized he was close, holding himself back from coming.

I smiled at him, encouraging him to let go. He lifted me up, twisting me suddenly until my back met the bed and he was above me. His hand reached down to grip my knee, pulling my leg up until it was tucked against his ribs, leaving me wide open to his increasingly hitched thrusts.

I could feel the blossoming in my belly that signaled my approaching orgasm. The bloom spread, opening along my hips and running up my spine until my body unfurled like a rose. Kell cried out and I felt the warm rush of his orgasm flood me.

His body collapsed on top of mine and when he made a move to pull out of me, I gripped him tightly and wrapped my legs around him.

"Please," I whispered, "can we stay like this awhile?"

He kissed me, his lips lingering against mine, his tongue darting out of my mouth, starting another rush of warmth through my body.

He'd turned to his side, pulling me into the safety of his arms and we'd fallen asleep.

"Priya," Kell said.

I blinked, realizing our car had come to a stop.

"Sorry," I answered, "what did you say?"

Kell looked at me questioningly, "You've been quiet."

"I…" I blushed.

He chuckled knowingly, "We're home."

"Finally," I said without thinking.

He laughed again, a little louder, "My thoughts exactly."

 **Teasing over Spaghetti**

When the Taylor and James got home in the evening, I had almost forgotten about the mean woman at the mall.

Kell had kept me busy, um…occupied, um…kept my mind off of things… I blushed when I caught myself staring off into space, thinking about his arms, his chest, his neck.

"Pregnancy hormones," James whispered in my ear, nipping my lobe and making me jump.

I blushed again, "I can't help it," I whispered.

"I don't want you to help it," he said, kissing my neck and stepping away from me.

I stared at the pantry, trying to remember what I was looking for before remembering: _spaghetti._

Being pregnant had affected both my hormones and my memory, one was okay, especially with three guys ready to tend to my every need, but the second was infinitely frustrating.

"You're boiling over," Taylor said lowering the heat on the stove.

James gave me a nudge in the back, making me blush further.

"Argh!" I groaned, their teasing was killing me.

"Leave her alone," Kell said from the dining room table. He had all of his medical books spread out as he studied for his MCATs.

"We can help you with the anatomy and physiology portion later, Kell," James said, and I froze, my mind going back to the very first time we had been intimate, before babies and Garret.

Even with everything that had happened, I was finding happiness. We had settled into a routine, school, studying, work for the Academy, planning for the baby. We were learning to live together and I was seeing for the first time, what a family could be like.

James wrapped his arm around my waist, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the pasta while he spoke to Taylor. I had tuned out most of their conversation, but I loved the way they spoke. They finished each other's sentences, or would start, "so that…" and then the other would pick up the thread. Every once in a while, James would kiss my cheek, or squeeze my waist.

Taylor stood with his back to the sink, his hands behind him, gripping the rim while he concentrated on James. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and I could tell from his hair that he had come from the gym.

"What do you think?" he asked, his dimpled smile turning my way.

"Huh?" I asked inarticulately.

"Well, Crash," he said, crossing his arms and giving me a look of mock disapproval, "I assumed by the way you were staring at me that you were listening to our conversation."

James chuckled and I lightly smacked his stomach, my hand lingering for longer than needed. Oh my god, what was wrong with me? This was insane. They were people, not just muscles and hotness…

I shook my head, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Pregnant Lyric is funny," Kell muttered from the dining room.

"Taylor was asked to instruct with the physical requirements at Academy bootcamp," James said, taking pity on me.

"You would be great at that!" I enthused, "will it interfere with finishing high school?"

"I can do both," Taylor said, "I really only need another credit or so. I've been taking college classes at the same time I've been in high school. Besides, I'm going to be a dad, and this will let me be home more."

I pushed my finger to my lips, "But is that what you want to do?" I asked worried.

Taylor shrugged, "I like the idea of doing something related to physical training, and I love my team, I think this would be a good use of my skills."

"But…"

Taylor waited and when I didn't continue he sighed and stepped forward, putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling me toward him, "I'm not settling Lyric," he said, "if that's what you're worried about. I don't feel like I'm giving up any sort of dream. The Academy is offering me an opportunity to be useful and stay nearby while we get our family settled. I want to do this."

I breathed in the smell of his skin, kissing it through the material of his shirt, "I just don't want you to resent me."

"Never," James whispered in my ear, "we chose you Lyric. Trust us. You're everything we want."

"We want you!" Kell called out.

I laughed.

"He's in a funny mood," Taylor observed.

James shook his head, "He's acting a lot like he used to," he noted.

"I'm getting comfortable," Kell retorted.

The sound of water hissing took our attention off each other. James drained the pasta and I gave the meatballs and sauce one more stir.

"You want to move your books, Kell?" I called out, putting the pasta in a big bowl and drizzling olive oil over it.

I heard the sound of paper shuffling, and then I felt him behind me, "Let me carry the hot stuff," he said, and with a swift movement, lifted me into his arms. I heard James and Taylor laugh as Kell brought me into the dining room and seated me in a chair.

"Haha," I said, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

Kell gave me a pointed look, one that made me swallow hard and yearn for bed.

"Yup," James said, sitting next to me, and peering into my face, "pregnancy hormones."

 **New Start**

"Do you want to come house hunting?"

I stopped biting my pencil and looked up at James.

"Huh?" I asked, my mind half on the calculus I was completing, and half on my craving for orange soda.

"I'm going to look at some houses," he said again, smiling as I started wiggling the pencil between my fingers, "do you want to come with me?"

I looked back at my computer, I only had a few more problems to complete, "Okay," I answered, "what are we looking for?"

He grabbed his keys off the counter and opened the door, "This place is too small for us," he answered, with a shy smile, "I want to find something bigger for when the baby comes."

My step stuttered, "You want to buy a house for us?" I asked.

"I want to buy a house with you," he clarified, "one big enough for the five of us."

My hand fluttered to my belly. In the past few days I had developed a tiny pooch. My hand came to it without conscious thought, almost like I was checking in with my baby.

"Do you want to stay here?" I asked.

James shrugged, "It's warm," he said, "it's different. Dr. Roberts and Constance are nearby. Kell is enjoying his introduction to the medical field and Taylor is ready to begin instructing at basic training. It makes sense."

I nodded, sitting in the passenger seat as James held the door open for me. He jogged around to the other side of the car, and sat down, buckling in and starting it.

"How do you feel about staying here?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "I keep picturing our room back in Kennebunk…" I trailed off.

"We can go back," he said, "I didn't know if you'd want to."

I moved my other hand to my belly, thinking about Kennebunk, what people knew about me, what the police thought about me, what had happened.

"I like the idea of a fresh start," I said, "living where nobody has any preconceived notions of me."

I thought about the looks of judgment I got when buying baby clothes, "Well, I mean, they do, but…"

"But there's not the history the way there is in Maine," James finished for me, reaching over and touching my belly. I placed my hand over his.

"I could like it here," I said, thoughtfully, "I think I could."

James smiled at me, a fully-blown-angel-looking-down-from-the-heavens smile.

"Good," he replied, pulling into a driveway.

My breath caught, "IloveitIloveitIloveit," I whispered.

James chuckled, "You haven't even seen it yet," he retorted.

A stylish looking woman came out of the house and walked toward our car, "Mr. McInnish?" she asked, "I'm Lesia Heald, the agent you spoke to on the phone."

I wondered what this woman thought about two teenagers looking at real estate alone, but she didn't seem flustered or confused at all.

"Hello," James greeted, "this is Lyric Sorenson, my fianceé."

 _Come again?_

"Nice to meet you Ms. Sorenson," Lesia held her hand out to me.

I stared at James, and he watched me with a small smile, before lifting his eyebrows and gesturing to Lesia's hand.

I felt my face flush with heat and I quickly gripped her hand, "I'm sorry," I said, "It's nice to meet you."

Lesia smiled. This woman was unflappable!

She walked toward the house and we followed, "As you can see," she started, "this is a good-sized lot for this area, three acres, partially wooded, and on a backlot, so there are no neighbors behind you."

We walked inside and my breath caught, "It was completely renovated," she said as we entered, "but built originally in 1930. It is Craftsman style, and open, as you can see. There are built-in bookshelves, and columns. Wood floors, and large windows to let in lots of light."

I was in love.

I could see all parts of the first floor from where I stood: dining room, kitchen, living room. I would be able to do work in one area, and still see the guys while they sat in another.

 _Or my baby,_ I thought.

I could see myself doing homework at the dining room table while the guys played with our girl in the living room. A living room full of baby accouterments and soft places to sit, and walls full of books.

Lesia brought us through the kitchen and dining room, pointing out details and amenities, but I was already sold. At the back of the kitchen there was a stairway. We climbed up the stairs, light filtering darkly through stained glass as we made our way to the second floor.

"This is a bit unusual," Lesia began, "because this floor has been opened up as well. There's one large bedroom here, with a master suite, and two large walk-in closets, and a smaller room over here, perfect for guests or a home office."

I poked my head into the smaller room. It faced the front of the house, the arched roof creating a small nook and window seat. Bookshelves framed the window, but didn't cast shadows.

"I would have loved this room as a little girl," I told James, clutching his arm tightly.

James looked around, nodding.

"We should look around," he said, "compare. This is the only one we've looked at."

"All it needs is a brook and it would be perfect."

Lesia cleared her throat, "There is, actually, a small brook in the wooded section of the property, and a…" she looked down at the paper in her hands before smiling, "a fairy house, or tree house, built by the previous owner."

I felt a pop in my belly, like a tiny air bubble burst, and my hands went to my stomach.

James put his hand over mine, "Are you okay?"

"I think I just felt her move," I said wondrously, watching as James eyes took on a golden glow, "she wants this one, too. I know it."

"Okay," he said quietly, moving his hands around my waist and pulling me into his arms. I felt him kiss the top of my head before he looked at Lesia, "We want it."

Lesia laughed, "That was easy," she said, "I'll get the paperwork."

"Are you sure?" James asked in my ear.

I nodded, "I love it. She loves it. This is our home."

 **No one But Us**

The condo was dark when we finally drove in. James flipped off the headlight and reached for my hand, pulling me across the console when I would have opened the door, and grasped my neck.

"I love you, Lyric," he whispered before pressing his lips to mine.

I scooted across the seat, leaning as far across as I could, nearly in his lap.

James had been so solicitous of me, he had held me at night, kissed me, but we hadn't made love.

I had been intimate with Kell and Taylor, usually when no one else was around. It was new and special, and with my hormones going wild, very much desired.

But James, while considerate and affectionate, hadn't seemed to want to progress to that level.

I didn't push, and when I tried to ask, he had changed the subject. I was trying to talk about things more, having a baby, being a parent, made me step out of my comfort zone, and initiate awkward conversations. I would ask James to sleep with me, to hold me, but I hadn't been able to make myself say the words, " _Do you think I'm ugly?" "Do you not want me anymore?"_

This kiss felt different, not just because he wasn't being gentle, and he was not solicitous, but because it felt like a jump off a cliff, a free fall into the ocean water.

He controlled the kiss, when I tentatively touched his lips with my tongue, he plundered my mouth, scraping his tongue against my teeth, moaning into my mouth, stealing my breath.

"I want you, Lyric."

"What have you been waiting for?" I gasped.

He pulled back, and his eyes darkened. He jumped out of the car and came around to my side of the car, yanking it open and helping me out.

He ran to the door, unlocking it and pulling me inside.

We didn't even make it up the steps.

As soon as the door closed he lifted me up, pressing me into the wall and devouring my mouth again. I threaded my fingers through his hair, keep his head still so I could rain kisses over his face. He jerked back, staring at me, before lowering his mouth to mine again.

"I don't know what I'm doing Lyric," he whispered.

 _Oh._

I pulled back, smoothing his hair away from his face, studying it before lowering my mouth to his. I lowered my hands to my shirt, and began to grasp the edges. James drew back, pinning me, before lifting it and throwing it over his shoulder. His hands held my waist, traveling up my spine.

He spun away from the wall, taking long strides forward until he could deposit me on the couch. His hands went to my waist, looking for a button. He looked down in confusion.

I realized what he was seeing, my high-waisted elastic banded maternity jeans.

I often went to bed in a pair of Taylor's boxer briefs and one of the guys' shirts, but since I'd gotten larger, they hadn't seen my maternity underclothes.

Sports bra.

Giant maternity briefs.

It was like he could read my mind.

"You're beautiful," he said, lowering his head and pulling back the elastic to land a kiss on my stomach.

I snorted, but cut the sound off as he slid my pants down my thighs, grasping my underwear at the same time. I sat up, pulling at his shirt as soon as he was within reach. He helped me, his skin almost luminescent in the dark room.

He covered me with his body, and I felt every inch of him against me.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

I shook my head back and forth, "Not at all," I whispered, "you couldn't."

He moved along the back of the couch, staring at my body and running his hand up and down my stomach, along my breasts, and back over to my hip.

"When I first saw you," he whispered, "covered in mud and leaves next to the road, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

"It was dark."

"I could see," he answered smiling, "your eyes were shining, and you were trying so hard to be brave. I couldn't decide whether to scoop you up or chase down the assholes who'd knocked you over."

"I'm glad you decided to scoop."

He nodded, his hand moving to my cheek. He leaned down, kissing me softly, his tongue dueling with mine.

"Everyday," he whispered against my lips, "I wake up, and I'm equal parts terrified and excited."

I pressed my head back into the couch, "James," I breathed, seeing the torment in his eyes.

He shut them tightly, "You're mine, Lyric," he said, "I don't deserve you, but you're mine."

"Jamie," I whispered, "Look at me."

He did, and I pulled his face down to mine. I pulled him on top of me, spreading my legs to make room for him before wrapping them around his hips.

I felt his erection press into me, sliding through my folds.

James sucked in a breath.

"I'm yours," I said, "Forever. We have something that is unique and…" I thought about it, "fated. I was meant to be yours. But you were meant for me, too."

I felt him pull back, his tip just resting at the entrance to my body.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

I nodded, grasping his hips in my hands. He studied me, not moving. I arched into him, a silent plea for him to move. He lowered his forehead to mine and slowly thrust into me.

He slid inside, like he was always meant to be there. We were always meant to be this way. He held himself there, his breathing harsh in my ear, his body wrapped around mine.

I could feel a fire building inside me, just having him there, pressing into me, was lighting up nerve endings. He pulled out, the drag of his skin against mine making me arch and gasp, and then he slid home again. This time with more force, his hips rubbing against me with each pump.

He did it again. And again. Until I was sweating, and writhing, and begging for him to move faster, harder, more. He listened, and he adjusted. His fingers stroked me, his lips worshipped me.

"Lyric," he panted, his voice deep.

I heard myself cry out, and then felt the warmth of his release spread through me, soothing me from the inside.

He continued to thrust, just a small rocking movement that kept me trembling and shivering with aftershocks.

I kissed his neck, his ear, any part of him that I could reach.

"Jamie," I whispered.

"Lyric," he replied, "you're it for me."

I smiled, "You're it for me."

 **Taylor Kicks Ass**

I threw my pencil across the room and buried in face in my hands, peeking through my fingers to stare at the screen.

The boys had moved most of our stuff, and they were setting up the new house. I was supposed to stay here, finish my finals online and wait for them to pick me up.

I had turned on my computer, and while waiting for it to load, got hungry. Three breakfast sandwiches later, I still hadn't done my final, but I was in a food coma and had fallen asleep, my head on the table, in a beam of sunshine.

I had awakened when my phone had chirped next to me, a text message from Taylor.

 _Hey Crash, how'd you do?_

 _Me: On what?_

 _Taylor: Calculus_

 _Me: not finished_

 _Taylor: are you ok? You started an hr ago._

 _Me: fine- just got hungry._

 _Taylor: :) We'll be home soon._

 _Me: Ok, Love you._

 _Taylor: Love you too_

I felt a building anxiety, I needed to finish this test. If I passed, it would be the last three credits I needed, and I'd officially be graduated from high school. My baby would have a mommy who, though still a teenager, would have a high school diploma. With that in mind, I started my test. I kept moving forward, even though I felt like I was getting every problem wrong. It was a timed test, and the stupid little clock in the right hand corner kept counting down. How did they expect people to complete tests like this when it looked like a bomb was about to explode?

I did not work well under pressure, and pretty soon, I had to pee, and I didn't have time to pee, so I just kept finishing problems.

I was standing up by the time I finished; crossing my legs and wiggling from side to side while clicking the, "save and submit my test," button.

I didn't even wait to see my score after I pushed the button, I just ran to the bathroom.

The score blinking at me when I got back made me sit down hard in my chair, throw my pencil, and start to cry.

It was stupid. It wasn't even a bad score. It was an 86, but it was the lowest score I'd ever gotten on a test, a solid "B."

My cell phone rang, and I knew, if I didn't answer it, the guys would be worried.

"Hello," I said after taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" Kell's worried voice came through the line. I could see his face, eyebrows drawn together, a downturned mouth.

I heard the guys immediately begin chattering in the background.

"I…"

"We're on our way!" I heard Taylor yell and then a door slam, he didn't even wait, he just left.

I started to laugh.

"Lyric!"

"I'm sorry," I choked out, "I got an 86 on my test and I'm mad."

"You're crying because you got an 86 on your test?"

Hearing it out-loud made me start crying again.

"Baby," Kell breathed, "It's okay. You passed. You got a good grade. You're going to graduate!"

I nodded my head and grabbed a napkin, wiping my face.

"I know, but I wanted to get a good grade. I fell asleep, and then I had to pee, and the stupid clock was just running down the time, freaking me out!"

Kell chuckled, and James said something in the background.

"What did he say?"

"He said that we'll reward you when we get home. That was a good grade, Baby."

I couldn't help the warm flutter of anticipation that began in my belly when I heard his tone.

"Okay."

"Does that make you feel better?"

"It will when you get here," I answered breathlessly.

I heard the front door open and close, "That was fast. Tex is already here."

"What?" Kell said, "He just left."

"Lyric," a voice said. A voice that I never expected to hear again and that made my entire world focus to a pinprick.

"No," I whispered.

"LYRIC!" Kell's voice echoed through the phone I kept clutched in my hand like it was a lifeline.

"Get out of here."

"I had to talk to you."

"Lyric," Kell said, "we're calling the cops. Taylor will be there soon. It's going to be okay."

I would fight him. He wouldn't touch me. He had to drug me to get close, there were plenty of things I could use as weapons.

I kept the table between us.

"I have to put the phone down, Kell."

Garret's eyes narrowed when he heard Kell's name.

"Keep the line open, Baby."

I could hear James talking hurriedly in the background and the sound of squealing tires. They would be here soon.

I put the phone in my back pocket and gripped the chair with both hands.

"Lyric," Garret said, "I love you. I should have told you before. I'm sorry. Please."

"Are you insane?" I asked, my voice low, "I hate you."

"I'm sorry I left you," he said quickly, taking a step forward and then back when I lifted the chair, "I didn't want to."

He was certifiable. Did he really think that I cared about him?

"Garret," I said calmly, "listen to me."

He nodded his head, his eyes wide and hopeful. I saw that he'd lost weight since I'd last seen him. He was slouched, and looked grey, colorless.

"I am in love with Kell, and James, and Taylor. I don't even like you. I have never ever loved you."

He shook his head, "No no no no."

"Yes, Garret."

His blue eyes shone with tears, "Why?"

"Why?! You're a married man! You're twenty years older than I am! You're related to me! And you raped me, Garret. You drugged me and you raped me. You had to rape me to get close to me. I would never let you touch me."

His body seemed to fold in on itself as he listened, each sentence piercing him right to his core.

"I would take care of you."

"I don't need you to do that. I never needed you to do that. I take care of myself."

Garret pulled out a chair and sat in it, "We just needed more time together, Lyric." He held his palms up, reaching toward me like I'd take his hand, "I can win you over. Come with me."

I shook my head, "No."

I heard the front door slam against the wall, and then Taylor was there. He was a streak of motion across the room, picking Garret up and throwing him into the kitchen. His hair had pulled loose from it's elastic and fell wildly into his face. He picked Garret up from where he'd fallen, grabbing his jacket with both hands and slammed him into the wall. He slammed him over and over again as I remained frozen.

"You don't get to touch her!" Taylor yelled before drawing his fist back and slamming it into Garret's face.

Garret brought an arm up, blocking Taylor's next swing and pushed back at him, but Taylor was incensed. He let Garret get a hit in, and countered with a blow to the stomach. Garret made a sound of retching and bent over. Taylor immediately followed the hit with two more to his back.

As Garret fell to the floor, Taylor followed him down, punching, slamming, shaking. I didn't try to stop him; though I had the fleeting thought that I should.

I wanted Garret to hurt.

Between each punch, Taylor reiterated, "You don't touch her!"

I heard sirens in the distance and then Kell and James were rushing through the door. Kell ran right to me, enfolding me in his arms, lifting me up and pulling me out of the house. I looked over his shoulder and saw James pull Taylor away from Garret, but not to stop him; to get in his own punches.

"They'll get arrested," I said shakily.

Kell was silent, his lips thin and his face sallow. His knees collapsed as he got us outside, folding onto the ground and pulling me into his lap. He kissed my head, my face, anywhere he could reach, holding me tightly.

"Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head. Now that I was in his arms, I was overcome with fear and trembled uncontrollably. I felt sick to my stomach, and buried my face in Kell's neck, breathing in his clean, familiar scent.

I heard footsteps and looked up. Taylor and James came out of the house, just as the cops arrived. They sat on the ground next to us, their arms reaching over Kell's to touch me.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, "He didn't touch me."

Taylor raised a bloody hand to my face, pushing back my hair, "You're sure?"

I nodded again, "You saved me. You all saved me."

Taylor grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me forward and kissing the back of my head. I felt James' arm around my back and I reached behind me to take his hand.

We stayed on the steps, watching the police swarm, watching Constance and Dr. Roberts, and some lawyer they must have called, arrive. We watched Garret get pulled out on a stretcher, hands cuffed to the rails.

I closed my eyes and leaned into Kell. Despite my fear, despite everything, I felt a measure of relief.

Garret was well and truly gone.


	61. Lyric Part 3

**Kate's Point of View**

I hung up the phone much gentler than I thought possible. In my mind I was a wild, raging beast of a woman. I tore the phone off the wall and threw it through the sliding glass door. I used my hands to break a table in half. I panted as I ripped apart entire phone books.

But my hand was steady as I placed the handset in the cradle. I took deep breaths, steadying myself before I let my mind focus on what I'd learned.

Lyric was pregnant.

Garret had gone to her.

He had been arrested for breaking into her home.

He was going to jail.

I heard the woman on the phone. She enumerated each point calmly, and asked me what I would like to do.

 _Let him rot._

"I will post his bail, can he leave the state?"

The woman assured me that he could not, at least not right away. Lyric had made accusations against him. She had said he raped her.

The woman on the phone believed there was no proof. She said what proof there had been had disappeared.

So had he? Had he raped her?

I thought of Lyric, of her shyness and of her kindness to Marie. I thought about her blushing when those boys had picked her up at our house. I thought of the way she turned her body away from Garret when he would try to put a hand on her shoulder. I thought about finding him knocking at her bedroom door.

I rubbed at my back, the muscles tensed and released. I stretched from side to side. This pregnancy was doing me in.

I shook my head. What in the world was I going to do? This baby needed his father. Marie needed her father.

Did I need their father?

I didn't.

I could get a job. Support us. Ask my parents for help.

A red haze descended over my vision as I thought about moving in with my parents. I would be damned if I let Garret do this to me. He may have messed up, but he was _my_ husband.

That shyness? The kindness? That was all an act.

The woman on the phone had talked about her boyfriend. The one she had been with for years. She told me he'd become obsessed with Lyric. She said Lyric had stolen him from right under her nose and paraded their relationship in front of her.

The poor woman had to work with Lyric. She had to watch Lyric grow big with another man's baby while the man she loved fawned all over her.

Apparently, he'd been the one to find Garret with Lyric, and she'd had to keep him from getting arrested as well.

I felt another muscle spasm. This one starting in my back again, but then moving lower, gripping my hips and my belly. It made me curl over, rising onto my tip toes. I gripped the back of the kitchen chair. I felt a gush of liquid spill over my shoes.

My brain shut off.

It was much too early for the baby. Much much much too early for this to happen.

I shuffled to the phone and dialed 9-1-1. I tried to keep my voice calm, as I slid to the floor and told them what was happening. I tried not to scream as I felt the life inside me slip away.

 _She was right,_ I thought, _that woman was right. Lyric ruins everything._ **Movement**

"How did he find us?"

"I don't know, James," Liam Anderson replied quickly, his heated tone matching James', "He said he got a call from a woman claiming to be Lyric."

"That's a lie."

"The number on his cell phone came from your house, James," Liam replied hotly.

James looked over at me, where Kell had a protective arm wrapped around my shoulders. I sat next to him on my beautiful new sofa in my beautiful new home, as the darkest experience of my life was revisited.

"I didn't call him," my voice was barely above a whisper, but James heard me.

He was by my side in a second, kneeling in front of me and grasping my cold hands in his, "I know that. _We_ know that. Someone called him and we need to know who."

Taylor was at the police station with Constance. She had retrieved all of the evidence against Garret that she had: reports from the doctor who saw me in Maine, reports from the girls at Sheltering Arms, my clothes, and brought them to the station.

Liam had told her they weren't likely to do any good; that too much time had passed and the police had received Officer Standish's reports from Maine. He looked at me apologetically, but told me there was little chance of them believing me over a cop. Still, he said, this department could surprise us, it was strange that a guy who'd filed a report of harassment would then travel hours from Illinois to South Carolina to visit the person harassing him.

Liam's cell rang and he picked it up, "Constance? Released when? And Garret? Great, okay."

"Taylor's free to go. Garret's in the hospital, and they're charging him with trespassing, but…" He looked at me pointedly, "They took the evidence we'd kept and they'd like to talk to you. They were pretty upset, Constance said, about no medical attention being given to you after the claims you made."

I didn't want to talk to them again. I felt panic bloom in my chest, overwhelming me. I brought my finger to my lip, pressing it to my teeth. I looked worriedly at Kell, begging silently for him to tell me I didn't have to do that.

Just as I began to feel my heart pound, there was a tiny flutter, low in my belly. I put my hand over it, and my anxiety dissipated as quickly as it'd appeared.

That was my baby. She was doing somersaults or round house kicks or something, but that was her.

I smiled before meeting Kell's dark worried eyes.

"I felt her," I whispered, grabbing his hand and moving it to the taut bump of my belly.

She did it again and his eyes widened. I grabbed James and put his hand on my belly as well. His pale hand and Kell's dark one dwarfed the bump. I imagined they were both cradling her close, and then she did it again. Twisting or turning, an unmistakable sign of movement that they both felt. She wanted them to feel her, I imagined.

James' eyes lit up, "That was her?"

I nodded quickly, covering both their hands with mine. Kell laughed as she did it again, and again.

I looked up to see Liam watching us strangely.

"I never felt her before," I explained.

His eyes, usually so cold and judgmental softened, and he nodded.

After one more barrel roll, the baby stopped and James and Kell reluctantly withdrew their hands.

"I'm going to look at the monitors, check the call logs from the house, and figure out who made that call," James said. "We all know it wasn't Lyric."

"Whoever it was," Kell interjected, "has it out for Lyric."

"Or us."

Just like that, the happiness I'd felt receded, leaving only worry in it's place.

"Are we safe here?" I asked, my hand cupping my baby.

James nodded, looking at Kell.

"We're adding more security, and we're enlisting some help from other Academy teams. They'll be checking in. If we need to, we can stay at an Academy safe house."

"Who would have called him, though, James?" I asked, biting my lip, and feeling sick.

He closed his eyes, "I don't know Lyric. But I promise, I'll figure it out."

 **Computer Glitch- Kell's Point of View.**

James slammed both his hands next to the computer keyboard before standing up quickly and sending the old wooden desk chair teetering and crashing backwards. I raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to wake…"

I heard footsteps hurrying down the hallway and then Taylor stalked angrily into the room, "What happened?"

"Taylor," I finished.

"Someone hooked into our goddamn landline remotely. That phone call? I can't trace it. It didn't come from our house. It was re-routed to look like it came from the house."

Taylor crossed his arms, his feet shoulder width apart, "So figure out who did it. I'm going back to Lyric. I don't want her alone."

I pulled out my phone, opening the camera to the bedroom. With the night vision, I could see she was curled around her new body pillow, one leg thrown over the top, her belly wedged over it. I smiled. Even though we'd had the bed specially made to fit all four of us, it wouldn't be long before we were relegated to the floor and Lyric and her pillows took up the space.

"She's fine." I tore my eyes away from her figure and made myself close the app.

James moved back to the computer, clicking away, "It was a cell phone and I can't trace it. I haven't seen someone use a burner phone with this capability before. It's…"

He pushed away from the computer and pulled at his hair, making the strands stand up. His face was pale, and his eyes had dark circles underneath them. He looked as horrible as all of us felt, knowing that someone had purposefully put Lyric in harm's way.

"Who would do this?"

That was the question. We had a very small circle of intimates. We'd never been on a team with any one else. We'd all been recruited by Constance, who remained our Academy liaison until James had turned eighteen. Now he was our lead and liaison. We had Academy instructors, the council, but none of them would have done this. What possible benefit would someone get out of this?

"One of us needs to talk to Garret," I realized.

"Let me," Taylor said, dropping his arms from across his chest and stepping forward. His eyes shone bright with anger, "I would love to talk to him again."

"They're not going to let us near him," James said thoughtfully, rubbing his hands down his face.

I opened up the app on my phone again. Lyric had kicked off the covers and was fully wrapped around the pillow now. I couldn't help chuckling deeply.

I heard movement and then Taylor was grabbing my wrist to pull the phone to him. His face softened immediately, "I'm going back to bed."

"Me, too." I needed to hold her, put my hand on her belly and feel our baby kick and flip again.

James walked over, peering over Taylor's shoulder. I turned the phone so he could see her.

"We'll work on this tomorrow," he said, "I need her."

"We all do," Taylor said gruffly.

Taylor gave me a look, and I raised my eyebrow, looking down at my phone.

Hmmm…

It was something we'd discussed before she was assaulted. Something we wanted to do, but then there was the attack and then the baby, and…

"We can't live defensively," Taylor whispered, "We will always have stress, and bad things will happen, but we need each other. We need that intimacy, Kell. We need to move forward with our lives."

I looked at James, and saw him nod nervously.

I stared down at Lyric, sleeping peacefully and felt a rush of excitement. I met the gaze of my brothers and nodded.

 **Wake-Up Call**

I felt a tickle across the back of my neck, and scratched beneath my hair. An arm snaked across my lower belly and pulled me into a hard chest. I smiled in my sleep, realizing it was someone… I woke up a little bit more… _Taylor_ 's breath on my neck. He'd fallen asleep with me after returning from the police station, holding me close to him. His steady heartbeat had lulled me to sleep.

I felt a kiss on my forehead and then along my jaw, soft lips, just lightly framed by stubble scraped against my skin.

I woke up a little bit more when I felt Taylor's hips thrust a little into my backside. I blinked open my eyes and stared into James'. The light was on in the closet, illuminating the room in a warm dim light. I peeked at the window, but the sky was still dark.

"Do I need to get up?" I whispered, wondering if they had banded together to wake me up to go to the police station, or somewhere equally stressful.

I felt the bed shift and I looked up to see Kell crawling over me.

A surge of excitement bloomed in my belly, and I felt a small smile creep across my lips, "What are you doing?"

Kell gave me a loaded smile, but my eyes closed a moment later when James fastened his mouth on mine. His lips pursed, his tongue tracing my mouth, asking for entrance. I opened and stroked my tongue against his. I could feel Taylor moving my hair over my shoulder. James pulled his head back and laughed.

I looked at him in confusion until I saw that Taylor had flipped my hair right into James' face, "I'm supposed to be a lot cooler than this," he whispered.

I laughed with him and wrapped my hand around his neck to pull him back to my mouth. I reached my other hand back to grasp Taylor's cheek. I could feel him trailing kissing along my shoulders and then there was the persistent forward and back motion of his hips against mine.

My hips rolled in reaction. James' hand snaked down my arm, onto my hip before lifting my leg across his. He began to thrust into the cradle of my hips, and with him in front of me, and Taylor behind me, I was overwhelmed with pleasurable contact.

I felt the air shift and a cool breeze moved over my body. Kell had pulled the covers away and was crawling over my body. He pressed his hands against my hips, and I groaned at the loss of pressure from James and Taylor.

He made up for it a moment later though, when he pulled my legs apart and began kissing his way from my ankles to my knees.

Taylor moved down my body as well. His hand running along the leg that Kell had just abandoned. His warm fingers tickled behind my knee before curving inward and climbing to my inner thigh. I felt his fingers along the band of my underwear and raised my hips; a silent request to keep going. He chuckled into my ear and then one finger was lifting material and slowly tracing the folds of my body.

I pushed myself toward him and then gasped when I felt James' fingers join Taylor's. Kell had focused on my knees, but was climbing higher and higher on my body. I felt his hands on my hips and then he was grasping my underwear and pulling it down my body. I moaned when James and Taylor moved their hands, but they returned a second later; James delving one long finger inside me, circling my entrance before pushing it inside me.

Kell's mouth fastened on me just as James withdrew his finger.

They worked in tandem. Kell circling and flicking the bundle of nerves, James slowly pumping his finger in and out of me, then pushing in another one, stretching and thrusting up into me.

Taylor lifted his head and moved to my chest. He raised my shirt, kissing across my hips before kissing my belly. I felt his head move back and I lifted my head to look at him. He smiled up at me, giving my stomach another sweet kiss before moving onto my mouth.

He kissed me desperately. I could feel his emotions churning in his kiss; his fear, his anger at Garret, but above all else, his love and complete devotion. His hand gently cupped my stomach and rubbed across it. I moved my hand from where I'd tangled my fingers in Kell's hair to Taylor's face.

He drew back to look at me, "I love you."

I smiled at him before my eyes closed. James had moved his fingers from within me and had tangled his tongue with Kell's as they both kissed and nipped at me.

A moment later I was calling out, my body free-falling off a cliff of sensation. The guys were there to catch me though, drawing out my release. I felt my body relax into the bed. I sat up, determined to return some of the pleasure they'd just given me, but Kell pushed at my shoulders, forcing me to lie down.

"But…"

He silenced me with a kiss. I could feel his soft stubble and taste my release on his lips. James pulled me into his body and Kell wedged himself between Taylor and me.

"Hey!" Taylor said playfully.

"You can spoon me," Kell retorted.

I heard Taylor laugh. James kissed my shoulder and Kell took my hands.

Something had changed tonight, we'd always been a family, and I'd been intimate with all of them, but this felt like we were taking a step toward something even more beautiful and 's hand reached over Kell's body for me and I held it in mine. I fell asleep quickly, my body wrapped around James and Kell, my hand holding Taylor's.

 **Released**

Taylor watched Constance pace and I watched Taylor watch Constance.

"How did someone get into the safe?" she asked, stopping in front of James.

He put his hands up, "I don't know Constance," he answered, "your cameras blinked out at twenty to ten and a minute later the lock was de-activated."

Constance pulled her hair over her shoulder and started twisting it in her fingers. Her face was pale, the freckles standing out against her skin.

"Why did it alert?" she asked, "That's what's supposed to happen. Everything was contaminated, James."

I felt the baby roll in my stomach and I covered her with my hand. I tried to calm the anxiety building in my body as I thought about Garret being released from the hospital and then being free to go wherever he wanted.

The clothes that the girls from Sheltering Arms had sealed into a bag were ruined. When Constance had passed the clothes onto the police, hoping to use them as proof of Garret's assault against me, they had been sent to the police lab. The lab then informed her that all the clothes appeared to have been sprayed with bleach. There was nothing left for them to use, though they were still examining each piece individually. It didn't look as if there would be material proof of his assault. The pictures that the doctor had taken had been sent to the police as well. They had passed the case onto the District Attorney, who would be the one to decide whether there was enough evidence to prosecute Garret.

The police here were very kind, very understanding, but honest. They weren't hopeful that the case would go forward. The most they could do, at this point, was ticket Garret for trespassing, and talk the ADA into _not_ prosecuting Taylor for assault. They felt very sure that Taylor would be in the clear, but it was nothing when weighed against Garret getting away with rape.

I had never seen Constance so angry. She'd called Liam Anderson to be with us when the detectives had come to speak with us, but he didn't really need to be there. She seemed to have a clear grasp of the law, and had laid out the case against Garret. I couldn't help but feel grateful that she was in my corner.

Still, there was nothing she could do for us.

Kell wrapped his hand around mine, his palm warm against my belly. Another hand covered ours and I saw Taylor smiling down at us.

"She's busy today." The baby rolled again, and then elbowed me, or kneed me. It was hard to tell what part of her body it was, but it was pointy.

He knelt in front of me, "What do you want to do, Crash?"

That was easy.

"I want him gone," I said quickly, "I want him to leave us alone forever. And he can never, ever know about my baby."

I looked over at James, who came over to us quickly, "We'll figure it out. This may have been enough of a scare to send him back to Illinois forever."

Taylor raised an eyebrow and looked over at him, "I am happy to make it clear. I feel like I haven't spent enough time with Garret."

"Enough, Taylor," Constance cut him off, "I didn't recruit you to the Academy so I could visit you in prison."

I felt the blood leave my head and I swayed.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking, "I won't make promises I have no intention of keeping. If he threatens my family again, I'll kill him. He's lucky I didn't kill him this time."

Constance's face got red and she looked at me, "He won't listen to me anymore," she said, a little accusingly, "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

"Constance," Kell growled.

She threw her hands up in the air, "I need to go anyway. Taylor?"

"I'm not leaving," he said, "Not until he's left town."

"Tay…"

"Connie…"

She smiled at him indulgently, "Fine."

She looked at me, "I'll let you know when he's gone. Y'all staying in?"

The guys made noises of affirmation.

"Okay," she said, "I'll see you later then."

Taylor got up and walked Constance to the door.

"Does she seem weird to you?" Kell asked when Taylor got back.

"She's just stressed out," Taylor answered, "she's been worried about Lyric and she's embarrassed and upset about the clothes."

I leaned my head on Kell's shoulder, "Do you think Garret will leave?"

"Yes," Kell answered, "I think that he's been sufficiently frightened and he'll go back to Illinois."

"But will he stay there?" I asked.

Kell sighed, "I hope so."

 **Lyric's Point of View 15 Years Later**

I gave Hero a hug, and a small smile, "They're all gone?"

She nodded, "All the teams are gone. It's just us now."

She held the door open to the observation room and I walked in. I could smell spring soap and the strangely pleasing combination of cedar, citrus, and ginger scent of whoever had been in here before me.

I peered through the observation room window, "She's changed."

The woman with the stringy light brown hair curled up on her side. She watched the t.v. that had been wheeled in. She was thin and tired looking, her skin had a sallow, grey tint.

"Is she dying?"

"She was," Hero answered, "but her meds are under control now."

The door opened and I saw a young woman enter. For a moment my breath caught, hope overwhelming me. I was let down when I saw who it was, but also a bit amazed. "Marie?"

Hero nodded, "She's here for the day. We called you as soon as Kate confided in her."

My fingers gripped the sill of the window, and I closed my eyes tightly, "What did she say?"

I held my breath.

"She said that Sang's mother was Garret's cousin."

My knees buckled, and I found myself sitting on the cold tile floor. Hero was next to me in an instant.

"She said that?"

Hero nodded, tears in her eyes as well as she wiped under my eyes with her sleeve.

"Did you tell the guys?"

Hero shook her head, "My team wanted to tell you first. You've been searching so long, Lyric. She's been with them this whole time."

I shook my head, my muscles tense. I wanted to jump up, to run into the room where Kate was lying, and shake her until she told me where my daughter was.

"Sang?"

Hero nodded, "That's what they named her."

"But I looked!" I cried out, overwhelmed, "I watched! All the evidence! It all pointed to her being Kate's baby! She was mine?!"

I covered my mouth, "Oh my God, Hero. What was her life like? My poor baby."

All the worry, all the fears came rushing back, "Why didn't we look closer? How could I not? Why was I…"

I thought about all the information I found: birth certificates, photos. I thought about the information that I'd received from other teams; it'd all ended in disappointment.

"Do you know? Hero? Do you know what her life was like?"

Hero watched me and I understood. I let the sobs overtake me. I cried for the baby I lost, for the hopes and dreams I had for her, for the life I wanted to give her, the life I could have given her; if only she hadn't been stolen from me.

 **Gone- Garret's Point of View**

Kate greeted me at the door, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head on my chest.

"Did you work out what you needed to?"

My heart was broken.

My arms came up and I gave her a small squeeze before I stepped away from her and into our house.

"Hi Daddy!" Marie said, greeting me from the couch.

I smiled at her and made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom. I could hear Kate behind me.

"Well?"

"You were right."

Kate walked around me and sat on the bed, "She's moved on."

I nodded, rubbing my eyes, "She's with those boys. They have a house together. She's graduated."

Kate rubbed her belly.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

Her eyes flashed at me, "Oh great," she answered snidely, "My husband just got back from a trip to visit his teenage lover and has returned to me looking like a kicked puppy so I'm feeling really good about everything right now."

I sat on the bed.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Kate answered, "You're sorry she doesn't love you. And you're sorry you got arrested. You're sorry you were beat up by a kid, but you're not sorry about what you've done to me. To our family. Don't say you're sorry, Garret. I don't want to hear it."

"Fine!" I stood up and walked away from her, "I loved her, Kate! She was fresh and innocent and sweet, and she loved me. We loved each other! I know we did! Even if that's not true anymore, I loved her!"

Kate's face got red, and she stood up, "And what about me, Garret? What about Marie and this baby?"

I sighed, "I don't know, Kate," I said, suddenly feeling every year of my age, "I will take care of you. I just… I don't know."

Kate narrowed her eyes at me, "Well at least you were honest."

 **Summer Time in the South**

It was hot. I thought that I'd love this time of year. It was spring in March. March!

I had never seen flowers blooming in March before. I'd spent so much time in Maine being cold, that I watched the numbers climb gleefully. Then March turned into April, and before I knew it, I was smack-dab in the middle of August. August in the south was hot, and it was humid.

I think it was the humidity that was killing me. It was like running into a wall of wet air when I left the house in the morning.

I was getting bigger, and I was uncomfortable, and it was making me cranky.

"Why don't you turn on the central air conditioning?" Kell asked, looking decidedly cool as he sat in the kitchen sipping coffee.

I glared at him, "I opened the window."

"You're just letting in the warm air," Taylor said, "You need to turn on the a/c."

I shook my head, "Central a/c is for wimps. I'll be fine."

I shifted on the kitchen chair where I sat. I slid back and forth, and winced in discomfort. I was sweating down my back and it was pooling in my underwear.

"Lyric," Taylor said, "we all know you appreciate the heat. We know that Maine is cold and that you love the warm weather, but you're uncomfortable. Turn on the air for goodness sake."

I stood up and flared my sundress around my legs, trying to shoot a breeze up it. I saw Taylor's eyes zoom in on my legs.

I walked over to him and gave him a small kiss, "Not gonna happen." I smiled.

I heard the front door open and close, and James walked in, "Ugh!" he said, loosening the tie he was wearing and throwing his suit coat over a chair, "It was more comfortable in my car! Why isn't the a/c on?"

I looked at Taylor, warning him with my eyes not to say a word.

It was Kell who answered, "We don't need air conditioning, because apparently we are all comfortable with the 90% humidity."

"Well, I'm not!" James said. He walked over to the kitchen window, slamming it shut and then over to the sliding glass door and closing it. He cranked up the thermostat and a blast of cool air hit my back.

I groaned and closed my eyes, letting the air wash over me, "Is there steam coming off my skin?" I joked, feeling so much more relaxed.

I felt a hand cup my face and I opened my eyes to smile at James. He smiled back at me, smugly.

"They texted you, didn't they?" I asked, and James nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to my mouth.

I felt his tongue trace my lips and I opened them, giving his lower lip a nibble.

"I should have listened," I answered, whispering against his mouth.

James nodded and surprised me by picking me up in his arms, and kissing me.

"Since I've saved the day," he said, "I think I should get a reward."

I felt my face heat and I squeezed my legs together, "Okay," I whispered.

I heard Taylor and Kell groan, "We've got to go to boot camp," Taylor said, "I told you we should have just turned it on."

I heard a rustle and then Kell was kissing me while James snuggled me closer, "I'll see you later," he said, the heat in his eyes hinting at what he had planned.

I kissed him back and then Taylor was dropping a kiss on my forehead, "I'm meeting with Constance and Dr. Roberts, and then I'll be home."

He kissed me again on my lips and gave James a wink, "See you later."

James had already started walking up the stairs, I waved to them over his shoulder.

James walked us into the bedroom where the curtains were drawn against the bright sun. He placed me on the bed before turning up the air conditioning. The switch from being over-heated to slightly chilly had me shivering.

His eyes darkened as he took in my form. He started unbuttoning his shirt slowly, dropping it on the floor and then undoing his belt. I pulled my sundress over my head. He knelt in front of me, grasping my underwear and pulling them down my legs. He kissed my knees and then gently spread my legs apart.

He pressed a kiss inside my knee and my head fell back. James chuckled and I felt his hands on my hips. He grasped me quickly, pulling my hips forward and giving me a little shove that made me land on my back.

He placed cool kisses along my belly, following the line that had formed as the baby grew, down to my mound. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the cold air rushing across my body. I felt his long finger push inside me and I rocked my hips, moaning at the contact.

He withdrew his fingers slowly before pushing them back inside, and then his mouth was on me. He licked from his fingers to the bundle of nerves. He traced around and around before latching his mouth onto me and sucking, hard.

I cried out, and immediately came. I heard him chuckle, the vibrations from his voice making me convulse. He curled his fingers inside me, and I shot off again.

"James!" I cried out, "Oh my god!"

He shifted, crawling up onto the bed, knees on either side of me. He withdrew his fingers, and gripped his erection, lining it up with my body and pushing it inside me.

His body curled around mine protectively as he slide inside me. He withdrew slowly, so I could feel inch of him, and then thrust inside.

He was so gentle, but I wanted harder. I rolled my hips toward him with a snap.

"Lyric," he groaned.

"Please," I begged, and bit gently on his ear lobe.

He knew what I wanted. He stood up, one leg braced on the bed, the other on the floor. He lifted my leg to the side and began to pump inside me. I could feel a tingling in my feet and fingertips, static electricity flowing into the center of my body until I lit up. I cried out and I heard James answer. His thrusts became less even, more frantic, and then he was exploding inside me.

He slowly stopped thrusting, before withdrawing and falling onto the bed next to me. His fingers traced my cheekbones and down my jaw. I stared at him, hoping he could see how much I loved him.

"I do," he whispered, making me realize I'd spoken out loud, "I do."

 **But I Love Him**

I met Taylor on the trail. The new Academy teams were practicing land navigation skills. Taylor was checking on each team, helping them with their map or reading the compass. He was surprised when I'd shown up this morning, but I'd told him I wanted to observe, and he was fine with that.

He looked tired, but it was almost October, and I was sure that any sleep he was getting was interrupted.

Pregnant ladies don't sleep very well.

I clenched my fists, thinking about Taylor being uncomfortable. He'd always put people before himself. He was a caretaker, a protector.

When I thought about his face after fighting with Garret. I swallowed hard. It kept me up at night, thinking about him being hurt.

He saw me looking at him and gave me a half smile, one dimple appearing in his cheek. How I wanted to kiss that dimple; to slide my lips along the scruff of his jaw. I wanted to feel his lips on mine, to feel his beard along my stomach, my thighs.

I waved to him and he called me over.

"How are the teams doing?" I asked, "Any stand-outs?"

"They're all pretty good," he smiled, "You always recruit the best, Constance."

I smiled at him and gave his arm a squeeze. He was the best. The best man I'd ever met, even though he'd just been a boy when I'd found him. I knew when I first saw the half-wild bad boy, the one who raised himself on a failing ranch in East Texas, that he was meant for me, for the Academy, too, but for me.

"How's Lyric?" I asked, inwardly screaming that I had to ask her name.

This time his smile had two dimples, and I couldn't help the jealousy I felt. She got a smile like that after all the trouble she'd brought.

"When's the due date?" I asked, knowing full well when it was.

"October 10th," he said, "but they think she's going to need to schedule a c-section. The baby's been breech at each appointment, and she's just not turning."

"Stubborn," I said, nodding my head like I cared.

I made a note to myself to get to the hospital and make sure the bracelet alarms were de-activated and the cameras refocused. Then I needed to call Kate.

I smiled, and Taylor smiled back.

"How's the baby's room coming?" I asked.

Taylor began talking animatedly, explaining the paint color, the theme, the books they'd bought.

I knew all this. I was at the shower they'd organized. I'd watched Taylor, my Taylor, kiss her, and rub his hand over the belly that grew with a child that wasn't even his! I thought about the nurse I'd paid to take the baby away and deliver her to Kate. She'd be meeting with an accident after she'd fulfilled her purpose.

Everything was in place.

Kate had lost her baby, and with my help, she'd fooled Garret into believing she was still pregnant. When she showed up with this baby, she'd take it in. She'd keep it and no one would ever find her.

It would destroy Lyric.

Maybe she'd even kill herself.

I could only hope.

I did know for sure that Taylor would blame himself, and that he may feel so terrible that he wouldn't be able to stay with her. She'd probably end up hating all of the guys. Then she'd be gone.

She'd be gone and I'd be back with Taylor.

I felt a tiny ping of guilt over what I was doing, stealing a baby from her mother, giving her to a mentally unstable woman.

But I had to. I had to save Taylor from the fate of mediocrity, being the "Dad" to someone else's baby.

He wasn't meant for PTO meetings, or tricycles. He was meant for great things. That was why I recruited him.

That was why I loved him.

 **Waddle Waddle**

I reached for the platter that was above the sink, but my stomach kept getting in the way. I dragged a chair over to the sink and eyed it. I eyed the platter, and then I eyed the chair and finally, I decided against it.

There was no way I was getting my huge body on that chair, balancing precariously, and then easing a glass platter off a high shelf. There were a thousand things that could go wrong.

"I'm glad you thought twice about that," Kell said, walking toward me, moving the chair to the side and getting the platter.

"I wonder if she'll be tall," I thought aloud, as Kell handed it to me.

"She'll probably be a peanut like you."

I smiled, walking over to the stove and scooping the roasted veggies onto the platter. I felt a cramp in my back and put the spoon down, stretching from side to side.

"You've been doing that a lot today," Kell noticed, "Your back hurts?"

I nodded, "It keeps spasming," I explained, "like a really painful cramp."

He looked at me, his face paling slightly, "How often?"

I shrugged and sat down in the chair, "Early this morning and throughout today," I looked at the clock, "It's getting more frequent as the day goes on, though. Probably because I've been on my feet too long."

Kell pulled out his phone and I saw him start to message someone, "We're going to the hospital."

"What?" I asked, "Why? Are James and Taylor okay? What happened?"

I stood up, and waddled over to him, grabbing his wrist and looking at his phone.

 _Lyric is in labor,_ it read.

I stared at it, "I'm in labor?"

My back spasmed again and I stretched, wincing as I did.

"Oh my god, Kell," I said, smiling widely, "I'm in labor! This is it!"

 **Message Received**

My phone pinged, telling me Taylor had received a message.

 _Lyric is in labor._

I took a deep breath. This was it. The start of my real relationship with Taylor.

I rang the nurse, "She's on her way in."

"Okay," she answered, and hung up.

I called Kate, "She's in labor."

"I'm ready," Kate answered.

I opened the apps on my phone that were hooked into the closed security system of the hospital. I started the loop that would run, over and over. When these tapes were reviewed, none of the key players would be seen. They would never ever know what I'd done, and they would never ever find this baby after I took her.

 **Baby**

Kell and James held my hand while Taylor wiped my brow.

"Ms. Sorenson," the doctor said, "she is just not wanting to turn around. We're going to wheel you into surgery for a c-section."

I felt another contraction and I groaned, writhing on the bed, trying to escape the pain.

"Fine!" I said, "Just take care of her."

"She's going to be just fine," the doctor said, standing up and nodding to the nurses.

Things happened quickly after that. They prepped me, gave me a dose of medicine that made me numb from my chest to my toes, and wheeled me into a cold, sterile surgery. The guys crowded around my head whispering to me about how excited they were. They kissed my face, and held my hands while I shivered and my teeth chattered.

I felt a pull and a wave of nausea and then I heard crying.

The guys stood immediately, looking over the curtain that separated my upper and lower half.

They started talking immediately, their words tripping over each others, "She's beautiful! Lyric! I love you so much, baby."

They showered me with kisses and then there she was.

She was tiny, her little face scrunched up delightfully. They'd wrapped her loosely in a blanket and she was still covered in blood, but she was mine and she was beautiful.

"Hi baby," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears as I looked at her perfect face.

I leaned forward and whoever was holding her brought her closer. I kissed her lips, her nose, her cheeks.

"I love you so much," I said and started to cry.

She started to cry and I laughed out-loud.

"Okay, mom," one of the nurses said, "let's get her cleaned up and we'll give her right back."

"Stay with her?" I said, looking at the guys.

I saw them look at each other, and James and Kell went to her while Taylor stayed with me. He swept my hair out of my face and kissed wherever he could reach.

"She's perfect, Lyric. Oh my god, Crash. She's perfect."

#####

I stared at the baby in the clear plastic bassinet next to me. I couldn't believe she was real. That she was really here. I reached over and touched her face with my finger.

"Priya," Kell said, from the chair where he was dozing off.

I smiled over at him. James and Taylor were sharing the twin bed in the room I'd been assigned and were sleeping soundly. Kell stood and came over to me. He wrapped his hand around my neck and drew my head into his chest.

"I love her so much, Kell," I whispered, feeling a flood of emotion.

"I know," he answered, "It's crazy, isn't it?"

I nodded.

He walked around the bed and picked her up. She didn't even blink.

"She's a baby burrito," I heard a gruff voice say from the bed.

I looked over at Taylor and smiled.

James nudged him with his elbow but he was smiling, "I got the nurse to show me how to swaddle her. That's my burrito roll."

I laughed at them before wincing at the pull in my stomach. The medicine was starting to wear off and I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, repeatedly.

"I can't wait to get her home," James said, "I'm so glad we got that co-sleeper."

Taylor nodded, "Our own bed."

He groaned as he turned over and stood up. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, stretching his arms from side to side before running his hands through his hair.

He walked over to Kell and held out his arms, "My turn."

"I just got her."

He made a "gimme" sign with his hands and Kell gently transferred the baby to Taylor.

"Hey, Baby Girl," Taylor said softly, "I'm your Daddy."

I swallowed hard, watching him start to sway back and forth. He began to hum under his breath, something I'd never heard him do before. Kell winked at me before settling back into his chair. I kept my eyes open as long as I could, but his humming eventually lulled me to sleep, too.

 **Where Is She? 15 Years Later**

"Can you call Taylor and Kell?" I asked Hero, "And James. I'm going to talk to her."

"Are you sure?"

I stood up, and wiped my eyes, "She's had my baby. She hurt my baby. Yeah," I answered, "I'm sure."

Hero looked nervous.

I took a deep breath, walking out of the room and opening the door to Kate's room.

Her eyes flickered to me and then widened, "Lyric."

"Kate."

A slow smile appeared on her face, "Haven't seen you for a while."

I sat down in the chair nearby, glancing over at Marie, "Hello Marie. My name is Lyric McInnish. I'm Sang's mother."

Marie's mouth opened and closed. She looked at her mother and then she looked at me, "I know you."

I nodded, "We met a long time ago."

"Don't talk to her!" Kate snapped, "I don't want my daughter talking to a whore."

I saw Marie pale, but I smiled at her reassuringly, "Why don't you give us a chance to talk, Marie."

"Don't go anywhere, Marie," Kate cried out, "She'll kill me!"

I rolled my eyes, "She's perfectly safe. There's a hospital full of people who'd save her if I tried."

A tiny smile appeared on Marie's face before she shut it down again and stood up, "I'm going to get something to eat. I don't want to listen to your boring conversation anyway."

"Marie!"

"I'll be back, Mom," she said before leaving without a backwards glance.

I leaned forward, "Where is she, Kate?"

She chuckled mirthlessly and turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, "Why should I tell you?"

"Did Garret know? Did he take her?"

She laughed, and shook her head. I saw a tear escape her eye and run down her cheek. She wiped it away and continued to stare at the ceiling.

"It was all your fault you know. I lost my baby because of you."

She turned to stare at me, hatred glaring at me, "You owed me."

I shook my head, "Where is she?"

Kate adjusted herself, and pushed against the bed. Her frail arms shook as she tried to get into a sitting position. She pulled the sheet up to her chest and crossed her arms, "Don't you want to know how I got her?"

"I just want to know where she is."

The door opened and a man I'd never seen before came in. He was tall, and wore a suit. He had on glasses and fixed me with a serious silver stare. He was Academy, that much was clear.

"Can I help you?" he asked me.

I looked over at Kate who regarded me smugly. If she thought that this man would keep her safe she was wrong. I turned away from him, "Tell me where my daughter is, Kate."

The man stepped forward, "Who are you?"

I stood up, "My name is Lyric McInnish, and you need to leave. I'm talking to her right now, if you have a problem with it, you can contact Dr. Roberts. He'll know who I am."

The man reached up, touching his tie as if it wasn't perfectly straight and then the corner of his glasses.

"Mrs. McInnish," he began, he gestured to the door, "Please come with me. I think I can answer your questions."

I put up a hand to stop him and turned to Kate, "How did you get her?"

She seemed to know she had no more power, and she deflated in front of me, "A woman. She called and told Garret about you. Then she brought us Sang. I should never have kept her. She's trouble. A whore. Just like you were."

My hand acted before my brain and I slapped her across the face. I leaned over, staring into her sunken eyes, "I don't know what you've done, but know this: if you've hurt her, I will hurt you a thousand times over."

Her eyes widened and she looked toward the man behind me. I straightened and faced him, "Can you tell me where she is?"

He watched me emotionlessly and I stepped closer. I had to tip my head back to look at him. He smelled like spring soap and I knew he'd been observing Kate like I had.

He touched his tie again and cleared his throat before gesturing toward the door again, "Shall we, Mrs. McInnish?"

I left, looking back at Kate. If I didn't get the answers I wanted from this man, I'd be back.

 **We Found Her- Kell's Point of View**

I stared at my phone.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?"

I met Taylor's wide eyes, "Yes," I croaked.

"Where is she?"

"Lyric's with Kate. Our daughter? I don't know yet."

James was throwing things at us; coats, keys, a blanket. Taylor tossed the blanket back onto the couch as we followed him out of the house. We didn't speak, but we all had the same thought, _get to Lyric, find our daughter._

 **Leaving**

I hugged the maternity ward nurse and wiped away tears, "Is this normal?" I asked.

She smiled at me and nodded. She'd been my night nurse, showing me how to diaper the baby, swaddle her, and nurse her. She'd helped me into the bathroom the first time I needed to pee, and watched all of us run around like crazy people the first time the baby cried.

The baby.

I looked over at her. She was swaddled tight. James was our official swaddler. He knew just how to do it so it didn't unravel the moment we put her down. Taylor was the official swayer and lullaby-hummer, and Kell was the fastest diaper-er ever. I didn't have much to do except feed her and snuggle her.

It was wonderful. Exhausting, but wonderful.

The entire room was packed up, and I was saying goodbye to the nurse I'd come to see as my lifeline.

"All the new moms feel this way," she told me, tucking my hair behind my ear, "I promise. You'll be fine. You have three awesome guys who are just dying to take care of that girlie."

I looked over at the baby who was sleeping happily in her car seat. She had a small pink hat on her head, and little pink mittens. I looked at her and felt my heart fill with love. I loved my boys, but this was a different kind of love. It was the sort of love that made the way I'd grown up even more unbelievable.

It also made me sad. I knew how much I loved my daughter, and I realized my mother had never loved me. I would protect this girl with my dying breath.

The nurse gave me another hug as the door opened and the day-shift nurse came in.

"One more dose of antibiotics," she told me, "and then you can hit the road. I think the guys just took the last bunch of stuff to your car."

"I can't believe how much stuff we collected!" I said, looking around the room.

It had taken the guys three separate trips. It was just me and the baby now, waiting for them to wheel me to the car.

"Have you come up with a name yet?" the day nurse asked.

I shook my head, "We want to wait until we're home. Then we can really get a sense of her."

The nurse laughed, "You're not the first family that's done that, but let us know, okay? We'd all love to know."

She held the pills out to me and I put them in my mouth, swallowing them with the water she handed to me.

The night nurse gave me another hug, "Be in touch Lyric!" she said, "I've got to make my rounds."

The day nurse gave me another hug and then helped me into the wheelchair. She gave me a small wave and left as well. I looked at the baby, who was shifting a little in her seat, her face scrunching and lips pursing as if she was dreaming of nursing. I watched her breathlessly, wondering if she'd wake up. I saw her lips curl into a smile and I smiled in response. When she smiled for real, she was going to slay us.

I put my elbow on the wheelchair and propped my face on my hand. I watched the baby sleep, and when she yawned, I yawned. My eyelids felt heavy and I let them close.

The next thing I knew I was being shaken awake by a panicked James.

"Lyric! Lyric!"

My eyes snapped open and I met his terrified eyes.

"Where's the baby?"

I looked at the bed where the carseat had been placed, but all that was left was an indentation in the blankets.

I stood up fast, losing my balance, but James caught me.

"Jamie!" I screamed, "Jamie!"

I wanted someone to run in and tell me they brought her to the nursery. But no one did. He held me and kissed my head while I screamed, and then held me when I went numb and the police came. He didn't stop holding me until he could put me in Kell's arms. And then he held me until he could place me in Taylor's.

But my arms were empty.

 **There**

"Mr. B?"

Silas' voice sounded worried when he answered the phone.

"We found her mother, Mr. Korba," I said, my voice strained even to my ears.

I looked at the woman who was being held by my Academy counselor, Kell Garewal, and then my boot camp instructor, Taylor Curtis. The man who came in first, the one who'd run right to Sang's mother was well known. James McInnish was a philanthropist, concert violinist, and computer genius. He was also team lead of the quietly famous McInnish team.

"Who is she?" Silas' accented voice questioned.

"She's Academy."

 **She Is Mine**

I sat in the car, James held my hand. Kell had one hand on my shoulder and Taylor was gripping my neck.

This quiet cul-de-sac was where my baby had spent the last few months. She wasn't a baby, though. Her name was Sang and she was fifteen years old.

And she was being protected by nine Academy guys.

I smiled to myself before pushing my finger to my lips. Kell, Taylor, and James had narrowed eyes as they watched a mass of boys exit the house.

"There she is," I whispered.

I saw her, half a foot smaller than the boys who dwarfed her. She had blonde hair, similar to mine, but shinier and bouncier.

"She looks scared," I said worried.

I looked at the guys surrounding her, "They all look scared."

"They should be," Taylor snorted.

I looked back at him. This news was hard on all of us. She'd been hidden from us, and then we'd learned about her life…

I shut my eyes tight against the stories Owen Blackbourne had told me.

I wanted to hold her.

I took a deep breath and opened the car door. Green eyes met mine, and a small shy smile touched the lips that were hidden by a delicate finger.

"Sang?" I asked, stepping out of the car and closing the door lightly behind me.

She looked away from me and at the boys surrounding her. One of them, a tall boy with dark hair and a frown stepped next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. I saw him lean down and whisper in her ear. I stopped, her entire body seemed to be throwing off warning signals, _don't touch, don't touch._

I felt my eyes fill with tears as I recognized the reasons why she would feel that way. I dashed one away with the back of my hand, but stayed back.

Kell gripped my waist and I looked up at him gratefully.

"Hi," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "I've been looking for you for a really long time."  
Her mouth opened and shut, and then she said in a slightly husky and broken voice, "Hi."  
"These are my husbands," I said, looking at the men who found me, saved me, loved me, and then saved me all over again, "They have been looking forward to seeing you as long as I have. And…" my voice broke and I swept my hands over my cheeks again.

Taylor gripped the back of my neck and James took my hand, "And they…" I stopped and started again, "...they love you as much as I do."  
Sang gave a tiny choked cry and then she stepped forward. The tall guy stepped forward with her, and I smiled at him, his frowning face reminding me so much of Kell when I first met him: _moody boys._

She held out a trembling hand and I closed my eyes, stepping forward and reaching out mine. Our fingers touched and I squeezed her hand, not a handshake, but an embrace. It was as much as I could see she was possible of giving me.

"Hi," she said again, "I'm glad to meet you."


End file.
